Welcome Aboard, Mr Halpert
by guster73
Summary: Documentary? What documentary? It's 2001, and James Duncan "Jim" Halpert has landed a job as a salesman for Dunder Mifflin, a mid-range paper company, in his hometown of Scranton.
1. The Receptionist

**Hey! This is my first time writing any kind of fanfiction, so any feedback would be awesome. This story begins from Jim's first day at Dunder Mifflin Scranton in 2001, and will basically follow his life in the office. It goes without saying that the Jim/Pam relationship will be a big part of this story, but it will also include encounters with Dwight, Michael and the rest. Enjoy!**

_"We all live under the same sky_

_We all will live, we all will die_

_There is no wrong, there is no right_

_The circle only has one side"_

The day was September 17, 2001, the time was 8:42 A.M., and "Side" by Travis graced the radio as James Duncan "Jim" Halpert turned into Scranton Business Park in his maroon Toyota Corolla. There weren't many spaces available, but he managed to squeeze in on the end, next to a 1987 Pontiac Trans Am. Jim turned the engine off, and enjoyed the silence for a few moments before glancing at his rearview mirror, raising his head up as he straightened his brown tie.

Once he was satisfied, Jim took a deep breath, before grabbing his canvas messenger bag from the passenger seat, lifting the strap over his head and onto his left shoulder. He opened the door and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. As he strolled through the car park, Jim's head became filled with the same questions he had been asking himself since getting the good news ten days ago:

"_Am I gonna like my co-workers?"_

"_Are my co-workers gonna like me?"_

"_What's my boss gonna be like?"_

His main concern, however, was:

"_Am I gonna like it here?"_

"Hey!"

Jim, caught off guard, quickly turned to his right and saw a girl, smiling politely as she approached him, wearing a pink sweater over a white pinstripe shirt with a charcoal knee-length skirt as her curly hair rested on her shoulders. Jim hardly noticed any of those things though, as his eyes immediately locked with hers, and he thought:

_"Wow."_

"Hey!", Jim replied with a smirk to the complete stranger, who was now stood beside him.

"I haven't seen you around here before. You must be Jim, right? Halpert?", she asked.

"Yeah," Jim replied with a slight nod of the head. "This is my first day... you are?"

"Pam Beesly. I'm the receptionist here. It's not as exciting as it sounds, trust me."

Jim and Pam shared a laugh. The first of many, he hoped.

"Michael's pretty excited that someone new is starting here," Pam said.

"I heard a little about him at my interview," Jim responded, as a smirk began to emerge on his face. "Sounds like he's, uh... _really_ something." Pam laughed for a few seconds, widening Jim's smile greatly, before exhaling.

"I like your car," Pam said, as she glanced at Jim's Corolla.

"Thanks," Jim replied graciously, taking a brief look over his shoulder at it himself. "I'm still paying off my tuition, so I'll be driving it for a _long _time."

"Where did you go to college?", Pam asked curiously.

"Scranton," Jim quickly replied. "You?"

"Marywood," Pam said. "Let's go inside. I'll fill you in about the rest of the office on the way."

"Sounds good," Jim responded with a smile, tucking his hands inside his pockets, before they walked side-by-side towards the building. He took a quick glance at Pam, before looking forward and thinking to himself:

"_I think I'm gonna like it here."_


	2. The Elevator

"I'll get that for you," Jim said as he reached forward, opening the door for Pam.

"Thank you," she said with a smile and a nod of the head, which Jim replicated in kind, before entering the building with Jim in tow.

"Hi, Hank!," Pam said, waving at the man sat behind the desk. "This is Jim. It's his first day here." Jim gave an awkward wave to Hank, who half-heartedly nodded his head at the two of them, before walking away with Pam.

"That's Hank," Pam explained. "He's the security guard here."

"I was wondering why you called him Hank," Jim replied with a smirk, getting a giggle out of Pam, as they approached the elevator doors. They waited for a few short moments, both with smiles on their faces, before the doors opened and they stepped into the elevator.

"How long have you worked here for?", Jim asked.

"Just over a year," Pam responded. "It's definitely not what I want for a career, though."

"Well, what _do _you want for a career?" Jim enquired.

"I'm really into art," Pam replied, looking at the ground. "I did some in college, but I don't know, I mean..." Pam trailed off.

"Well, it's better to be at the bottom of a ladder you wanna climb than half-way up one you don't," Jim said. Pam looked at him and smiled. "But if there's nobody else in the office that I like, please don't quit until I do."

Pam laughed again. Jim thought to himself:

"_Man, I love her laugh."_

The elevator doors opened. Jim let Pam walk out first, before following behind her. "I'll be surprised if you like Michael," Pam said. "Hardly anyone does. Phyllis and Stanley are nice. They're in sales too. You'll probably get along with Kevin in accounting. Pretty much everybody is fine, although Angela can be a little… _stubborn_."

Before walking through the door to the office, Pam stopped, turning around to face Jim.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Pam said. "Enjoy this moment, because you're never going to go back to this time before you met your desk-mate, Dwight."

"Alright," Jim said with a smile, nodding his head. "Thanks for the heads up, Pam."

"_I think I'm falling for her."_

Pam giggled, before turning back around. Jim reached forward, grabbing the door handle and again opening it for her. "Thanks," Pam whispered, before walking through it. Jim followed, stepping into the Dunder Mifflin Scranton office for the first time.


	3. World's Best Boss

**Been super busy lately, so this took longer to finish and post than I thought it would. But here we go! Enjoy.**

"That's me," Pam said as she pointed to her desk at the front of the office. "And this… is you."

Pam presented Jim with his desk, adorned with a large computer monitor, mouse and keyboard, and a phone. Suddenly, a black-haired, relatively short man burst through a door, rushing towards the pair.

"Good morning, good sir!", he exclaimed in a poor English accent, enthusiastically extending his hand to Jim.

"Hey!", Jim said with a smile, shaking his hand.

"You must be Master James Halpert," he said.

"Call me Jim," Jim replied.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," the man said, as a perplexed look emerged on Jim's face. "You're thinking 'wow, he seems pretty laid back, he's cool, he must, I don't know… work in accounting or something boring like that. Well believe it or not, I'm the _regional manager_ here!"

Jim and Pam glanced at each other, trying not to laugh.

"So _you're _Michael Scott," Jim said out loud. In his head, he said:

"_It all makes sense now."_

"Yep, that's me, the _biiiiig _boss man," Michael said. "But if you call me boss, I'll fire you on the spot. I'll put a box on your desk, and you can just… pack your things and get the hell outta' here, man." Jim's eyes widened, surprised by that statement. "KIDDING!", Michael shouted, cracking up in laughter, before regaining his composure.

"But seriously, above all else, I'm friend, a _best _friend many might say, to everybody in the office, so just call me Michael. Or Mike. That hasn't really caught on yet."

The three of them were approached by another man. He had middle-parted hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and wore a brown jacket and pants, a mustard-coloured collar shirt and a striped tie.

"Who is that, Michael?", the man enquired, looming over Michael with a stern look on his face. He turned to Jim. "Who are you?", he asked.

"I'm Jim," Jim replied, extending his hand. "It's my first day here." The two of them shared a brief handshake.

"Dwight Schrute, best salesman in the company" he said proudly, as Michael rolled his eyes.

"So _you're_ the new guy… average build… certainly _above_-average height…." Jim and Pam looked at each other, their facial expressions doing the talking:

"_Can you believe this guy?"_

"_I told you so."_

"Cut it out, Dwight!", Michael snapped, as Dwight stopped inspecting Jim and hurried back to his desk. "Man, what a nutjob, huh?", Michael whispered to Jim and Pam, who both immediately sensed the irony in Michael making that statement. "He should take the bus to work… must use a lot of fuel driving all the way from crazytown." Michael laughed, exceedingly proud of his joke, as Jim and Pam forced themselves to laugh as well.

"Just so you know, that desk you're gonna be sitting at? That used to be _my_ desk," Michael said with pride, looking over at Jim's desk. "Sat there every day for nine years, makin' sales, until Ed Truck retired this year, so they gave me the keys to the car and a big, fancy office of my own. No pressure, just tryin' to inspire, that's what I do."

Jim nodded his head, pretending to agree.

"What do you say I take you on a tour of the office?", Michael asked.

"Uh, sure," Jim said, delighting Michael, who turned his back to Jim and pumped his fist twice, making a sound reminiscent of a train.

"ALL ABOARD!", Michael exclaimed, catching a few of the other workers off guard.

Jim looked at a giggling Pam with puppy-dog eyes, shaking his head, clearly not wanting to embark on this 'tour'. "Have fun!", Pam said, before walking over to her desk.

Michael proceeded to take Jim around the office, showing him around and introducing him to his new work colleagues. Everybody appeared to be friendly enough; Angela's stubbornness, as Pam put it in the elevator, wasn't evident quite yet. He was, however, a little uncomfortable with Michael stating that Stanley, who worked in sales, had an "urban vibe" which gave an "edge" to the office, and especially with his belief that Catherine, the customer service representative, "wanted him bad."

Once the tour had concluded, they headed into Michael's office, Jim taking a seat in front of Michael's desk. As Michael took a seat, Jim found himself a little taken aback by how many toys there were on the desk.

"So, Jim… how d'ya like Dunder Mifflin Scranton?", Michael asked, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Seems like a good place to work," Jim replied. So far, nothing suggested to him that it wouldn't be a good place to work, but then again, he had barely been here for twenty minutes.

"Well, you know what they say, a workplace is only as good as its boss," Michael said with a grin.

"_Pretty sure that's not an expression."_

"OH! You know what would be a great idea?", Michael said, almost jumping out of his chair.

"What?", Jim asked.

"You'll see," Michael answered, quickly standing up. "C'mon." Michael opened the door and walked out of his office, Jim getting up and walking out afterwards, standing next to Michael. Michael cleared his throat loudly, grabbing the attention of the office.

"Alright everybody, by now you've all been introduced to our new employee extraordinaire, Jim Halpert," Michael said, as a few nodded their heads. "But y'know what? That's not enough. We need to _really_ welcome Jim to the Dunder Mifflin family, so everybody in the conference room, five minutes!"

Michael ended his speech with an emphatic clap of his hands before turning on his heel and walking back into his office, as Jim thought to himself:

"_Oh, God."_


	4. Any Questions?

"As you all know, here at Dunder Mifflin Scranton, we are a family. And today, our family is growing. So without further ado, Jim Halpert… the floor is yours."

After his brief opening speech, Michael took a seat at the end of the row of chairs on the side in the conference room, as a nervous Jim stepped forward, the eyes of his new co-workers all squarely on him. His gaze was immediately drawn towards Pam, who was smiling at him but had the misfortune of sitting next to Michael.

"Hey everybody," Jim said, waving awkwardly. "I'm Jim, I'm gonna be working in sales, and uh… that's probably all you wanna know about me, so I'll wrap it up there." Jim got a few laughs from the room with that comment, as a slight smirk appeared on his face.

"No!", Michael exclaimed, standing up and shaking his head.

"Jim, these are your best friends, you're gonna see these people every single day for the rest of your life," Michael said, oblivious to how ludicrous his statement was. "We need to know everything about you. Here's an idea, everybody ask Jim a question! Anything you want! How about it, Jimbo?"

"_Jimbo?"  
_

"Uh, sure," Jim said reluctantly. Kevin, the accountant, put his hand up.

"Yes, Kevin, good!", Michael said.

"Favorite food?", Kevin asked. "Soft shell crab," Jim replied confidently.

"Nice," Kevin replied with a wry smile.

"Favorite movie?", Phyllis asked.

"I'd probably have to go with The Godfather," Jim said, eliciting a few nodding heads in the room.

"How much experience do you have in sales?", Dwight asked, putting a damper on the relatively informal nature of the questions.

"Nice question, Dwight," Jim said, somewhat sarcastically. "I worked part-time in Gerrity's during college and I'd been waiting tables between graduating and getting this job, so-"

"Where did you go to college?", Dwight interrupted.

"Scranton," Jim quickly retorted.

"Why did you apply for this job?", Dwight followed up, continuing to interrogate Jim.

"It's close to home… uh, the money's pretty good for a college graduate…" Michael promptly stood up, waving his arms.

"Alright, that's enough, Dwight," he said. "Stop monogamising the conversation. This is for everyone." Jim and Pam looked at each other, in disbelief at how Michael just confused 'monopolising' with 'monogamising'.

"I have an idea, how about you tell us a s_ecret? _Preferably one you've never told anybody before," Michael said.

"Uh, yeah, I'm not gonna do that," Jim replied, looking uncomfortable. "Too soon? Alright, we'll get there," Michael said. "OOH! Kinda important question, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I don't," Jim replied, glancing at Pam afterwards.

"That's great! Neither do I! We can be each other's wingmen!", Michael exclaimed enthusiastically.

"I thought I was your wingman, Michael," Dwight interjected.

"No, Dwight, we went out together _once, _and you made the girl I was trying to sleep with leave by shouting at her because she didn't know where paper came from," Michael snapped.

"She wasn't right for you, Michael, clearly you had nothing in common," Dwight said, trying to defend himself.

"I wasn't looking for my future wife, Dwight, I was trying to get _LAID!_", Michael exclaimed. Dwight's head dropped.

"Alright, I think that'll just about do it," Michael said, after several moments of awkward silence. "Everybody back to work."

Everyone got up from their chairs and swiftly left the conference room. Pam hung back to talk to Jim.

"Welcome to Dunder Mifflin Scranton, Jimbo," Pam said, laughing.

"Please don't call me that ever again," Jim said jokingly, as they walked out of the room together. Actually, he didn't mind what she called him. "Oh, and _please _make sure I never have to be Michael's wingman."

"I'll try, but I don't know, he _is _our boss," Pam replied with a smile. Jim smiled back at her.

"Well, I guess I'd better get to work," Jim said, approaching his desk.

"Have fun with your new best friend," Pam responded, referring to Dwight, who was at his desk, engrossed in whatever was on his computer screen.

Jim shook his head, albeit with a smirk, at Pam, who giggled, before walking away to her desk, as Jim took his seat at his. Moments later, the phone rang at reception. Jim looked over as Pam picked it up.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."


	5. Quitting Time

It was 4:59. After the rather uncomfortable meeting in the conference room this morning, Jim had enjoyed a solid but uneventful first day at Dunder Mifflin Scranton. Now, all he could think about was going home. Jim yawned.

"Why are you yawning?"

Jim looked at Dwight, whose eyes were fixated on him, waiting for an answer. "Just tired, Dwight," Jim replied with a sigh, having endured this behavior from Dwight all day.

"Well you shouldn't be," Dwight said. "I've worked much harder than you today, and I'm not tired at all. You should try going to sleep earlier."

"Maybe I will," Jim muttered as he looked back at his computer screen.

"QUITTING TIME, FOLKS!", Michael exclaimed, bursting through his office door and clapping his hands together loudly. Everyone in the office proceeded to leave their desks, saying goodnight to each other as they filtered out of the office one by one.

Jim put his jacket on, before standing up from his desk and grabbing his bag, lifting it over his shoulder. "Later, Jim," Kevin said as he walked past him.

"Later, Kev," Jim replied. They had bonded over Philadelphia sports teams in the break room earlier.

Michael approached him. "So, good first day?", Michael asked.

"Yeah, pretty good, thanks," Jim replied.

"Do you wanna go out for a beer or something? Watch some kind of sports... thing?", Michael enquired, moving closer to Jim.

"That sounds great, I can't tonight, though," Jim responded. "Some time though, definitely." Jim didn't have anything going on tonight. He could easily have gone out for a beer with Michael. He found him a little overbearing, though.

"Alright, I'll hold you to that!", Michael said with a grin, before turning around and walking back into his office.

Jim walked towards the reception desk, where Pam was preparing to leave. "Hey," Jim said. "Hey! How'd you like your first day?", Pam asked.

"Not bad," Jim replied. "Hey, do you-"

"Hey, babe!"

Jim was cut off as a stocky, brown-haired man wearing a warehouse uniform approached them, grabbing Pam by the waist and kissing her. Jim's heart sunk. Some other guy just did what he'd been thinking about doing all day.

"_I was about to ask her out for dinner tonight. Man, would THAT have been awkward."_

"You ready to go?", the man asked. "Yeah," Pam said with a smile on her face. "This is Jim, he just started here today. Jim, this is my boyfriend, Roy. He works in the warehouse."

"_She has a boyfriend."_

"'Sup, buddy? Good to meet ya'," Roy said, extending his hand.

"You too, man," Jim responded, shaking Roy's hand.

"Let's go, I'm starving," Pam said, gazing at Roy.

"Alright," Roy replied, leading her away. "Catch you later, man," he said to Jim.

"Bye, Jim!", Pam said, looking over her shoulder and waving.

Jim waved back, doing his best to smile. He damn sure wasn't smiling on the inside, though.

Michael walked out of his office. "Hey, Michael," Jim said, grabbing his attention. "You still wanna get a beer?"

Lord knows he needed one.


	6. Cold As Ice

**Thanks for the feedback, Julia and Idnaoj80, hugely appreciated. Idnaoj, this will indeed be AU.**

"For Jim Halpert, one beverage of the ice-cold variety!"

Returning from the bar, Michael placed two bottles of beer on the table, either side of a bowl of nachos, before taking a seat opposite Jim. Jim didn't anticipate his first day of work ending with a beer with his new boss at Poor Richard's, but here he was.

As soon as he took his seat, Michael grabbed his bottle, raising it slightly in the air. "To Dunder Mifflin Scranton… and new beginnings," Michael proclaimed with a toast. Jim accepted the toast, as their bottles clinked together, before they both took an extended sip.

"I'm glad we're doing this," Michael said, with a mouthful of nacho. "All the time I'm asking people in the office if they wanna hang out, get a beer, and they always shoot me down. I thought you were gonna be one of 'em too."

In that moment, Jim looked past Michael's buffoonish antics in the office, and saw somebody who just wanted to have some fun with his employees. He was glad he took Michael up on his offer.

"What about Dwight? I can't imagine him turning down a beer with you," Jim said with a grin.

Michael snickered, before shaking his head. "It's different with Dwight. _I_ have to say no to _him_," he said. "Dwight is just… _blegh_. Give it time, you'll see what I mean."

"I think I already do," Jim said.

"You and Pam seem like pretty good friends already though," Michael remarked. Jim felt his heart beat faster when he heard Pam's name, and at first a slight smirk appeared on his face, before he heard that dreaded word:

"_Friends."_

"Yeah," a somewhat deflated Jim replied. "She's nice." Jim, remembering what drove him to come here in the first place, took an extended sip from his beer.

"She's dating somebody in the warehouse," Michael said. "I think his name's Ryan, or Randy, or…"

"Roy," Jim interjected. Jim's stomach turned just by saying Roy's name. He hadn't done anything to make Jim hate him. As a matter of fact, he seemed like a pretty nice guy in their brief meeting earlier. He just happened to be standing between him and the girl he almost immediately fell in love with this morning.

"Yeah, him," Michael said. "They've been dating since high school. Poor guy will never know what it's like playing the field."

The idea of Pam and Roy being together forever only made Jim more uncomfortable, so he quickly changed the subject to how Michael got his start at Dunder Mifflin. They continued to talk, mostly about work-related things, whilst finishing off their beers and nachos.

Once they were done with their refreshments, Jim and Michael got up from their table and left Poor Richard's, bidding each other adieu until the morning, and informally agreeing to go out on a Friday night in the future, as opposed to a Monday, so they can "_really_ party Dunder Mifflin-style", as Michael put it, before going their separate ways.

The next morning, Jim pulled into Scranton Business Park at 8:48 A.M. for his second day of work. Unlike the day before, this time Jim walked into the building alone, walked past Hank the security guard alone, and took the elevator up alone.

Jim walked into the office, and was greeted by a smiling Pam at the reception desk, immediately brightening his day.

"Hey!", Pam said.

"Hey," Jim replied with a smile. "You will _never_ guess what I did last night."

"Tell me," Pam said.

"Alright," Jim said. "I got a beer… at Poor Richard's… with Michael." Pam's jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"No way!", Pam whispered, albeit rather loudly. "How? Did he pay you?"

Jim laughed. "No, he didn't pay me," he verified, further surprising Pam. "He did buy the beer and nachos, though."

"I dare you to tell Dwight," Pam whispered, giggling, as they both looked over at Dwight, sat at his desk adjusting the position of one of his many bobbleheads on his desk.

"Oh that's _cold_, Pam. Ice cold," Jim said with a grin. "Almost as ice cold... as the beer I had with Michael last night. I'm so using that one on Dwight."

Pam burst out laughing, making Jim smile even more. He was joking about it now, but Michael was actually pretty good company last night.

He just wasn't the company that Jim wanted.


	7. The Prank

Bored out of his mind, Jim stared at his computer screen, his head resting against the palm of his hand. Eventually, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dwight staring at him with a smirk on his face, waiting for Jim to notice. Jim succumbed, turning to face Dwight.

"What?"

"How many sales have you made today?", Dwight asked, doing his best to stop his smirk from turning into a full-blown smile.

"Not as many as you, I'm guessing," Jim replied.

"Well… if you _do_ wanna make a sale… maybe you should give Stone, Cooper and Grandy a call," Dwight said.

"You mean the guys you just made a sale to on the phone?", Jim asked. Dwight nodded his head, grinning. Jim rolled his eyes, shaking his head before looking back at his computer screen.

"_My God, he's annoying."_

Michael walked out of his office with his hands in his pockets. "Hey Michael," Dwight said, gaining Michael's attention. "I got Stone, Cooper and Grandy!".

"Good work, Dwight," Michael said as he tried to walk past Dwight and Jim's desk and towards the break room, but Dwight promptly stood up and blocked his path, holding his hand up for a high-five.

"Please, Michael," Dwight whispered. "I did it for you." Jim spun around in his chair and shot a perplexed look at Pam, who looked equally puzzled.

"Alright, alright," Michael said with a sigh, and high-fived Dwight, giving the latter a lot of satisfaction, before walking away. Dwight sat back down at his desk, punching the air in victory. Moments later, Jim got up and walked over to the reception desk. Pam turned away from her computer screen and towards Jim, greeting him with a smile.

"It's 9:44 A.M. and I'm officially sick of Dwight already," Jim said, making Pam laugh.

"I'm impressed that you lasted as long as you did," Pam retorted.

"I have an idea," Jim announced in a hushed tone to Pam.

"What is it?", she asked with great interest, leaning forward.

"We… send Dwight… on a fake sales call," he whispered. Pam's eyes lit up, and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"I'll use my cell to call him pretending to be somebody interested in buying paper, and I'll give him an address for somewhere really far away that absolutely does _NOT _need paper from us," Jim said, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody could hear him. "Like… I don't know, Chuck E. Cheese or somewhere like that."

"Philadelphia's a two-hour drive," Pam said. "Can you wait until we're on break? I don't wanna miss this."

"Sure," Jim replied with a smirk, before walking back to his desk. As he sat down, he and Pam exchanged glances, both excited for what the day would bring.

When it was break time, Jim got up from his desk and gave a knowing look to Pam, before walking out of the office. Pam followed him out a few moments later, before they met up in the parking lot. Jim called Dwight's desk phone on his cell, and Dwight thankfully answered.

"Dwight Schrute?", Dwight enquired.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Schrute," Jim said, making his voice deeper than usual as Pam covered her mouth to conceal her laughter. "My name is… James… Hanks, I'm calling on behalf of… Hanks… and Sons."

Jim shrugged his shoulders at Pam, who covered her face with her hands.

"How can I help you?", Dwight asked.

"Well, Mr. Schrute, our paper is currently sold to us by Staples, but a friend of mine told me that _your _company could give us a better deal," Jim said, receiving a thumbs up from Pam.

"Your friend is right," Dwight said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "We'd be willing to sell your paper to you for ten percent less than whatever price Staples is charging you."

"Fantastic!", Jim exclaimed, still maintaining his deep tone. "Would you be willing to meet me in Philadelphia tomorrow? We prefer to do our business in person."

"That's a pretty long drive," Dwight replied, sounding uncertain. "I'd be out of the office for five hours. I could do _a lot _of business in that time."

"Well if you do, our business is all yours, and you'll be able to tell your boss that you stole a client from Staples," Jim stated, trying to push Dwight in the right direction.

"Very well, I will meet with you tomorrow," Dwight said. Jim's eyes lit up, and he pumped his fist, letting Pam know that their plan was a success. "Where would you like to meet?"

"Do you have a pen?", Jim asked.

"Of course," Dwight replied, scrambling to find a pen and paper, as Jim looked at what was written on the palm of his hand.

"Meet me at 9 Snyder Avenue at noon," Jim said.

"I will see you there," Dwight said with a smirk on his face, before putting the phone down, looking very pleased with himself.

Little did he know, he would be driving to Philadelphia tomorrow to sit in Chuck E. Cheese until eventually figuring out that nobody was coming to meet him. Meanwhile, Jim raised his hand in the air for a high five.

"Please, Pam," Jim said, mocking Dwight's exchange with Michael earlier. "I did this for you."

Pam burst out laughing, and high-fived Jim, before they went back inside. Once they were back in the office, Jim was greeted at his desk by the same smirk on Dwight's face that he had seen earlier.

"Guess what I'm doing tomorrow, Jim?", Dwight said.

"What?", Jim asked, trying to feign his usual uninterested tone.

"I'm going to Philadelphia, to meet with Hanks and Sons, to steal them from Staples."

"One of my friends from college works for them," Jim said, trying to make the entirely fictitious company, named after Tom Hanks since he had watched The Green Milelast night, that he thought up on the spot when on the phone to Dwight seem more real. "Nice job, Dwight."

"Thank you, Jim," Dwight said proudly, before getting back to work. Jim looked over at Pam, and the two exchanged wry smiles with each other, having orchestrated their first prank on Dwight.

Jim initially thought about how weird it was that he was actually having _fun _at work, before slipping back into thinking about what had plagued his mind since he started working at Dunder Mifflin Scranton a week ago:

Pam, and the fact that he couldn't be with her.


	8. The Dundies: Part One

"Hey, Jim!"

As usual, Jim was greeted by Pam as he walked into the office. He had been doing his best to arrive at work at 8:42 A.M. every morning, because that's what the time was on his first day when he met Pam in the parking lot, but every time he had walked into the office since then, he had seen her already at her desk.

"_I think I'll get here a little earlier on Monday."_

"Hey!", Jim replied enthusiastically, approaching her desk. "Are you as excited about winning a Dundie tonight as I am?", he asked in a rather sarcastic tone. Last Friday, Michael gathered everyone in the conference room and announced that the following Friday, he would be hosting the first annual 'Dundies', an event where everyone in the office would receive an award in order to "maintain" morale, at Chili's, and attendance was compulsory. Today was Friday.

Pam rolled her eyes and sighed, before they both laughed. As a matter of fact, Jim actually _was _excited about tonight, because he'd be spending time with Pam outside of the office for the first time, even if everyone from the office was going to be there.

"So, is… everyone in the office going?", Jim asked. He was originally going to just ask if Roy was going, but thought better of it.

"I think so," Pam replied. "Michael _did _make it compulsory. I don't think Roy wants to go, though."

"_Good. Let him stay at home. Wherever home is. Hopefully not with Pam."_

"I can't imagine Michael doing anything about it if he didn't go," Jim said with a laugh.

"Probably wouldn't end well." Pam laughed, something which always pleased Jim.

"I'll make sure he does," Pam said. Jim forced a nod and a smile, before checking his watch.

"I should probably get to my desk," he said, having had enough of talking about Roy.

"OK, talk to you later," Pam replied joyfully. Jim took his seat at his desk, with Dwight a few feet away.

"Morning, Dwight," Jim said with minimal enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Jim," Dwight replied. "So… what Dundie do you think you're gonna get tonight?", he asked.

"Haven't really thought about it at all," Jim replied, showing no interest whatsoever in talking to his irritable deskmate.

"Maybe you won't get one at all because you're new here," Dwight said with a slight smirk. "_I_ wouldn't give you one if I was in charge. You're not worthy of an award yet. Maybe next year… if you're still here."

"Thanks, Dwight," Jim muttered sarcastically before turning on his computer, focusing on that instead of continuing his painful conversation with Dwight. Moments later, Michael walked out of his office with a grin on his face.

"Tonight's the night!", Michael exclaimed, receiving no response from anyone except for Dwight, who punched the air in excitement. "You get a Dundie, you get a Dundie, everybody gets a Dundie!", he bellowed, pointing at various people in the room. After a few awkward moments of silence following his Oprah impression, Michael approached Jim and Dwight's desk, standing between them.

"Tough crowd. T.G.I.F, am I right?", Michael said, awkwardly making conversation.

"So right," Dwight answered, nodding his head. "How about T.G.I.T.D? Thank God It's The Dundies," he suggested.

"Doesn't work, five letters is too long," Michael muttered, leaving Dwight slightly bemused. "You, my friend, are gonna _love_ your award," Michael said to Jim, who immediately looked at Dwight with a smirk, angering him.

"Am I gonna love mine?", Dwight leaned forward and asked. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Maybe, maybe not, just… concentrate on your work," Michael uttered before walking back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

A few hours later, at break time, Roy walked into the office, approaching Pam's desk. Jim looked more closely at his computer, doing his best to look occupied as opposed to blatantly evesdropping.

"Hey babe," Roy said as he leaned against the desk.

"Hey," Pam responded. "Are you coming to Chili's with us tonight?"

"I can't," Roy responded, sounding regretful. "Kenny's only in town for tonight, and he wants to go to Bernie's. I'm sorry, babe."

Pam sighed. "OK," she said, evidently disappointed. "I can still give you a ride there," Roy added.

"Cool," Pam replied.

"I'm gonna head back downstairs," Roy announced after a few moments of silence. "Darryl just bought a dartboard so we've got a little tournament going on." Pam simply nodded in response.

"Come here," Roy said, leaning further over the desk, and Pam kissed him, albeit somewhat reluctantly, before he left.

As soon as he was gone, Jim got up from his desk and began to walk towards the kitchen, when Pam caught up with him. "Hey," she said.

"Hey, what's up?" Jim responded.

"Roy's not coming tonight, so would it be OK if you gave me a ride home?", Pam asked. "Don't worry about it if you can't."

"Sure, no problem," Jim replied.

"Thanks," Pam said with a grin. "Oh, and Roy's playing darts in the warehouse, so I hope it's OK if I eat my lunch with you."

"_That's more than OK, Pam."_

"Of course," Jim said happily, before walking through the kitchen and into the break room with Pam.

So far, not a bad day at all.


	9. The Dundies: Part Two

"Ladies and gentlemen of Dunder Mifflin Scranton, welcome to the first annual DUNDIE AWARDS!"

Michael paused for applause, but the only one to applaud was Dwight, stood behind Michael with a CD player in front of him.

"Just to remind everybody, Corporate is paying for this party, so get as many drinks as you want, it's all going on the group tab!", Michael proclaimed. "In fact, that's an order. By the end of tonight, I don't want any of you to be able to stand up!"

"Michael, we can't drink, we all drove here," Toby said.

"Well then call a cab and pick your car up in the morning. Problem solved!", Michael quickly retorted. Meanwhile, Jim and Pam were sat on a table together a few feet away from Michael. Jim wasn't opposed to drinking, but he certainly wasn't going to get drunk tonight. Not when he was giving Pam a ride home.

"I think we need to take a moment to congratulate Michael on choosing such a great place to host the first-ever Dundies," Jim said, somewhat sarcastically, as Pam laughed. "I haven't been in Chili's since I took a girl on a first date here back in high school."

"Do you have a girlfriend now?", Pam asked.

"Oh, no," Jim said, as he directed his gaze downwards.

"_Unless my girlfriend's name is Pam Beesly, forget about it."_

Whilst Michael performed as 'Ping', an Asian character he had created with zero awareness of how racist it was, Pam finished her margarita surprisingly quickly, and immediately got up to get another one. When she returned with another margarita, the awards presentation got underway.

There were a few questionable awards given out, such as the 'Most Likely To Die Next' award to Creed, the 'I Have A Dream' award to Stanley and the 'Golden Girl' award to Phyllis, a reference to the sitcom about a group of elderly women, despite the fact that Phyllis was the same age as Michael. Jim did enjoy the 'Biggest Nerd' award given to Dwight though, mainly because Dwight was visibly upset by it.

After Michael sang 'I Want A Dundie', an adaptation of 'I Want It That Way' by the Backstreet Boys, Pam got the 'Easiest Job' award for having, well, the easiest job in the office. Jim assumed that if Pam was sober then she wouldn't be too pleased with that award, but after drinking three margaritas in quick succession, she certainly wasn't sober. She got up and jogged to the front, snatching the microphone out of Michael's hand after receiving her Dundie.

"Wooooo! Easiest job! In your FACE!", Pam exclaimed, before giving the microphone back to Michael and rushing back to her seat next to Jim, who was taken aback, but also amused, by how drunk Pam was. As soon as she sat down, she grabbed Jim's beer glass, which was now a quarter full, and finished the rest of it off.

"The last award of the night... is for Jim Halpert," Michael said. It was time.

"He hasn't been a part of the Dunder Mifflin Scranton family for long, but he's already one of my closest friends. So close, in fact, that we went to Poor Richard's for a beer after work last week! So without further ado, Jim, I present to you the 'World's Best Drinking Buddy' award!"

"_Now the whole office knows that I got a beer with Michael. That should make me popular."_

Sensing the looks of bewilderment that his co-workers were giving him, Jim sighed under his breath, before getting up and walking to the front. Michael handed him his Dundie and they shared a handshake, which Michael decided to follow with a prolonged, extremely awkward hug, before letting him return to his table, where Pam was laughing uncontrollably.

With that, the first annual Dundie Awards was over. Michael thanked everyone for coming (as if they had a choice), before everybody began to disperse from Chili's. Jim helped the drunken Pam up from her seat, and led her in the direction of the exit as she held onto his arm.

"Wait, wait! I wanna get another drink!", Pam said.

"I think you've had enough," Jim said with a laugh, steering her away from the bar and out of the restaurant. He helped her into the passenger seat of his car and strapped her in, before getting in and driving her away.

"So, you have a good night?", Jim asked with a grin.

"I had… an AWESOME night," Pam responded emphatically. "You're best friends with Michael! HA, HA, HA! Jim and Michael sitting in a tree, K-S-I-S-I-N-G!"

"Pretty sure that's not how you spell kissing," a chuckling Jim said.

"I am… SO glad... that we work together," Pam uttered, slurring her words a little. Jim smiled. "You're just… so _nice! _Why can't all guys be like you?!"

"What about Roy?", Jim asked. He was trying to remain composed, but inside, he was absolutely glowing. "Urgh," Pam said. "Roy is… just…", she trailed off, mumbling to herself under her breath, before her head dropped to her side.

Jim and Pam arrived at her apartment building. He got her out of the car and led her towards the building entrance, but stopped when Roy walked out.

"_Well, I guess this is where the night ends."_

"Oh man! How much did she have to drink?", Roy said, laughing.

"Probably more than she should have," Jim replied with a smirk.

"I'll take it from here," Roy announced, grabbing her arm, the same arm that Jim was holding. "Thanks, man," he said, whisking Pam away.

"Jim… Jim…", Pam uttered, which Jim could hear, but Roy didn't stop, leading her inside.

Jim got back in his car and drove away. On the journey home, he thought about what Pam said to him whilst he was driving her to her apartment, and couldn't help but smile.

He felt optimistic.


	10. Jim's Birthday

"_It's a luscious mix of words and tricks_

_That let us bet when you know we should fold _

_On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped _

_And the whole mess of roads we're now on"_

The day was October 1, 2001, the time was 8:45 A.M., and "Caring Is Creepy" by The Shins graced the radio as Jim Halpert turned into Scranton Business Park in his maroon Toyota Corolla, just like every day. Today wasn't like every other day, though. Today was Jim's twenty-third birthday.

He hadn't told anyone. He didn't see the appeal of going out of his way to let his co-workers know that his birthday was coming up. If they knew, that was fine. If they didn't, he'd just go about his day as normal.

Jim walked into the office, and was met by a look from Pam as per usual. When she realised it was Jim, her face lit up. "Happy birthday!", she said jubilantly, bringing a smile to Jim's face.

"Thanks," he said. "I can't remember telling you today was my birthday though."

"I'm on the party planning committee, we know when everybody's birthdays are," Pam replied with a grin. "But still, you should have told me."

"In my defence, I didn't tell anyone," Jim said. "Wait… does that mean you guys are throwing a_ party_ for me?"

Before Pam could answer, Michael came running out of his office. "There he is! The birthday boy!", Michael exclaimed as he planted himself between Jim and Pam. "Twenty-three, huh? Man, I wish I was still twenty-three," he said. "But then I probably wouldn't be regional manager… or maybe I… I don't know."

Awkward silence fell over the conversation.

"Thanks, Michael," Jim said, breaking the silence.

"Get ready for four o'clock, Slim Jim, 'cause you're gonna have the best birthday party of your life, Dunder Mifflin style!", Michael announced excitedly, patting Jim on the back, before walking back into his office.

"Slim Jim… that's new," Pam mused. Jim grinned, and then headed to his desk, where Dwight was sat, leaning back in his chair with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hey, Dwight," Jim said as he sat down.

"Good morning, Jim," Dwight responded. "If you're waiting for me to wish you happy birthday, then forget about it. If you make a sufficient number of sales today, however, then you may get a birthday wish from me at the end of the day, depending on how I'm feeling."

"Good to know," Jim muttered to himself, and their conversation ended there. Until four o'clock, the day was pretty normal. Some of his co-workers wished him happy birthday as they were passing by, he talked to Pam at her desk about what he was doing after work - he was going out for dinner with his parents and two brothers - and he was forbidden from entering the conference room by Michael, but that was about it.

Then it was four o'clock.

Michael gathered everyone in the conference room, where the walls were plastered with "Happy birthday!" banners, and the table was adorned with party food, drinks and a birthday cake. The rest of the office proceeded to sing "Happy Birthday To You", with Michael singing louder than anybody else, and Michael then presented Jim with a birthday card signed by the rest of the office, inside which Michael decided to write "Let's get another beer sometime!".

"_He's never gonna let that go, is he?"_

For the next hour, everyone just ate, drank and talked, and when it was five o'clock, people began to filter out of the conference room and leave the office for the day. Jim packed his bag at his desk and put his jacket on before heading for the door, when he felt his arm grabbed from behind. It was Pam.

"Hey," Pam said. She handed Jim a wrapped birthday present and a card. "Happy birthday."

"_Best birthday ever."_

"Thanks, Pam," Jim said with a grin. "You really didn't have to get me anything, though."

"I wanted to," she replied. For a few moments, they just stood there, looking at each other, smiling. He could stand there forever.

"Well, I better get going," Jim said. "Thank you for this, again."

"Goodnight," Pam said with a little wave.

"Goodnight," Jim replied, before turning around and leaving. As soon as he got back to his car, he opened his present from Pam. It was a figurine of Jimbo from The Simpsons.

Jim burst out laughing, shaking his head. This was Pam's way of poking fun at how Michael called Jim 'Jimbo' on his first day, even though he told her never to call him that again, and he loved it.

He then opened the card.

"_Jim,_

_I hope you don't try to kill me tomorrow after opening your present, but I couldn't stop laughing when I saw it, so I had to get it._

_Anyway, work has been so much more fun with you around over these last two weeks. The fact that you're already my best friend in the office is both pretty impressive and also goes to show how bored I was every day before you started working here. I can only dream of being as good a friend to you as Michael, though. Or Dwight. Haha! Just kidding._

_Happy birthday._

_From Pam_

_x"_

Jim laughed, before closing the card and putting it on the passenger seat next to his Jimbo figurine. Of course Pam was his best friend in the office.

But he didn't want to do that.

He wanted to be more than that.


	11. The Sales Call

**Thought I'd change it up a bit with a chapter not so heavily focused on the Jim/Pam relationship. This chapter contains references to the 'Travelling Salesmen' episode from season 3. Enjoy!**

"Are you ready?"

"Yep."

Jim didn't bother to look up from the paperwork in front of him when answering Dwight's question. Today, Jim and Dwight were going on their first sales call together. Was he ready? Yes. Did he _want _to be ready? Absolutely not.

"Good," Dwight said with a wry smirk. "Today, Jim Halpert, you're enrolling in the Dwight Schrute School of Business. Your first class? Sales 101. Just let me do the talking, and we'll be fine, OK, rookie?"

"Whatever you say, Dwight," Jim responded, again without looking at him. Once it was time to leave, Dwight and Jim got up from their chairs and grabbed their bags. Before they could leave, though, Michael came rushing out of his office with a camera.

"Wait, wait!", Michael cried, standing in Jim and Dwight's way. "Before you leave, I think we should immoralise this day forever, in the form of a picture of the two of you before your first of many sales calls together."

"_I think he meant immortalise. And did he say 'first of MANY?' Oh, God."_

Dwight nodded his head in approval. Meanwhile, Jim looked over at Pam, who saw that Jim had just died a little inside, and grinned at him.

"Over here, by the water cooler," Michael said giddily as he directed Jim and Dwight towards the back of the room. Once they were in position, Jim forced a smile as best as he could, whilst Dwight placed his hand on his shoulder, and Michael took their picture together.

"Perfect!", Michael said. "I'll get three of these developed, one for each of us. Alright, you two, skedaddle!"

_"I'd really rather you didn't, Michael."_

"I'll make you proud, Michael," Dwight whispered, making Michael cringe a little, before leaving with Jim in tow. On his way out, Jim gave Pam the puppy dog eyes, making her laugh.

The car journey on the way there mainly consisted of Dwight playing heavy metal music extremely loudly. Once they arrived, Jim got out of the car, but Dwight didn't, only opting to unbuckle his seat belt.

"You coming?", Jim asked. "I'll be out in a minute," Dwight replied. Perplexed, Jim nodded his head before shutting the car door. Dwight adjusted his radio, before "Kickstart My Heart" by Motley Crue came on. Dwight proceeded to play the air guitar and headbang for a good minute, before finally getting out of the car.

_"That was... interesting."_

"What?", Dwight asked, noticing the confused look on Jim's face.

"Nothing," Jim said, trying not to laugh. Dwight rolled his eyes before walking towards the building, Jim following him.

Their sales pitch went as expected; Dwight monopolised the meeting, doing all of the talking. To his credit, though, he did a great job, and he closed the sale.

"Nice job, Dwight," Jim said as they walked out of the building.

"Stay under my wing, and you'll be able to make sales like that in your sleep," Dwight responded in a supremely confident manner, before punching the air in victory.

Once Jim and Dwight arrived back at the office, they were approached by Michael. "Did you close it?", Michael asked.

"You know it!", Dwight replied with a grin, raising his hand for a high-five. After thinking about it for a second, Michael high-fived Dwight, before high-fiving Jim as well.

"Wait, why does he get a high-five too?", Dwight asked.

"You _both _made the sale. Use your head, Dwight," Michael responded, before walking away. "But I did all the-", Dwight said, stopping mid-sentence once Michael was back in his office and shaking his head. Jim found it funny how Dwight considered himself to be so superior to his colleagues, but yet craved the acceptance of his boss so desperately.

"That was _my _sale," Dwight snarled, before brushing past Jim and returning to his desk.

At that moment, Jim strongly considered transferring from the Dwight Schrute School of Business.


	12. The Suggestion Box

Bored out of his mind as usual, Jim decided to do something other than stare into space, and think about how much it sucked that Pam was with Roy, for a change. He got up, and walked over to Pam's desk.

"I have an idea," Jim said in a hushed tone, immediately grabbing Pam's interest.

"What kind of idea?", she asked.

"We... use the suggestion box... to convince Dwight... that somebody is trying to kill him," he revealed. A huge grin appeared on Pam's face, before she reached under her desk and pulled out her cards.

"You be the killer, and I'll try to warn him about it," she said. Jim smirked, before taking a handful of cards and writing threatening messages to Dwight on each of them, whilst Pam wrote one informing Dwight of her suspicion that somebody in the office was trying to kill him. They put them all in the suggestion box on Pam's desk, and Jim made a slit-throat gesture to Pam, making her laugh, before returning to his desk as inconspicuously as possible.

"_This is gonna be a good day."_

A few minutes later, Michael gathered everyone around the table in the conference room for the weekly suggestion box meeting. It started off as a pretty routine affair, with complaints such as the microwave in the kitchen not being clean, the need for new desk chairs and Kevin's humming whilst doing his work being read out. Then, Jim and Pam's plan sprung into action.

"I hate Dwight Schrute, I think that this office would be a much better place without him," Michael read aloud. As Jim and Pam glanced at each other knowingly, Dwight simply scoffed in response.

"Oh yeah, _real_ mature, keep hiding behind that pen or pencil of yours, idiot!", Dwight said, rising to his feet. "Y'know what, I don't care who wrote that, because I am superior in every way to everybody in this room, Michael excluded. I'm not going anywhere… right, Michael?"

"N- well, I… no. You're not," Michael replied, relieving Dwight as he sat back down. "Unless everybody felt the same way, in which case yes, I would probably fire you to keep morale high." Michael surveyed the rest of the room, before getting back to the task at hand.

"Next… I heard a rumour going around that somebody in the office hates Dwight. By the sound of things, he could really be in danger," Michael announced.

"Rumours are for children," Dwight said, standing up again. "And as for me being in _'danger'_, I have a purple belt in Goju-ryu karate. Danger may as well be my middle name." Dwight sat down, as Michael took another card out of the suggestion box.

"Your purple belt won't save you from taking a bullet to the head, Dwight. You'll never see it coming," Michael said, starting to sound concerned.

This time Dwight had no response, instead staring blankly into the distance, perhaps starting to worry. Michael took another card from the box.

"I found a gun on the table in the break room. I'm worried that somebody might try to use it in the office," he said, before shaking his head and slamming the card down on the table.

"Alright, nobody should be bringing a gun into work," Michael said. "And whoever is thinking about trying to kill Dwight, please put your hand up so I can stop Dwight from being shot in the head."

Nobody put their hand up. Meanwhile, Jim and Pam tried mightily to keep straight faces.

"Nobody? Alright. See, Dwight, you've got nothing to worry about," Michael said as he turned to face Dwight, who had now emptied all of the cards in the suggestion box onto the table, starting to look just a little paranoid.

He filtered frantically through the cards, before grabbing one and studying it closely. "The demise of Dwight Schrute is upon us soon… to be more precise, tomorrow at noon," he read aloud to himself, before letting the card fall out of his hands and onto the table.

"Alright, I think that's a pretty good place to leave it for today," Michael declared, standing up from his chair. "Dwight, pick up those cards, will you?", he ordered, before walking out of the conference room, followed by the rest of the workers. Dwight was left behind, as assembled all the cards, his hands shaking, and put them back in the suggestion box. Jim and Pam left the room side-by-side, barely able to contain their laughter for much longer.

"He _actually_ thinks somebody is going to try to kill him tomorrow!", Jim whispered to her, before they both snickered.

"Should we feel bad?", Pam asked in response.

"Pam, he said - and I quote - 'danger may as well be my middle name'... don't feel bad," Jim replied. They laughed, before going their separate ways as Pam returned to her desk.

Dwight came into work the next day, but was not himself at all. He was sweating profusely, and unlike every other day, there were no snarky comments aimed at Jim; he was completely silent. It was paradise.

When the clock struck noon, Dwight instantly stood up from his chair. He scanned the room, as everybody continued to go about their work. Once he was satisfied, he walked into the kitchen and then into the men's bathroom, followed by the women's bathroom, before entering the annex, where Toby and Catherine had their heads down at their desks.

Dwight then walked back into the main office, and checked his watch. It was 12:01 P.M. Upon seeing this, he smirked, before sauntering back to his desk, indicating the return of the Dwight everyone knew and loathed. He wasn't going to die after all.

Once he sat back down, though, he found a note at his desk which read:

"_I lied. I could strike at any moment, Dwight."_

Dwight's smirk quickly disappeared. He crushed the note in his hand, before throwing it into the trash can and slamming his fists down on his desk, shouting "DAMNIT!" through gritted teeth. Jim, having quickly written the note whilst Dwight was out of the room, looked over at Pam, who was looking at him.

They gave each other a look of approval, followed by an air high five.


	13. Halloween

The clock struck 5:00 PM, and with that, Jim Halpert's work for October 30, 2001 was done.

He stood up from his desk, put his blazer on and lifted his bag over his shoulder. "Later, Dwight," Jim said.

"Goodbye, Jim," Dwight replied in a stern tone, as he organised his desk.

Jim headed towards the door, but then decided to take a quick detour and approach Pam's desk. "So... what are you dressing up as for the Halloween party tomorrow?", Jim asked.

"A witch," Pam responded with a grin. "So if you cross me tomorrow, I'll probably turn you into a mouse." They both laughed. "What about you?", she asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Jim replied, sounding a little nervous. "Haven't really thought about it. Dressing up isn't really my thing."

"Well I hope it's something good," Pam said. "This_ is _your first Dunder Mifflin Halloween party, after all."

"I'll try," Jim assured her. "See you tomorrow." His plan was to write "SLIM" on a piece of paper and tape it to his shirt so he could go as Slim Jim. But since this was his first Halloween party at Dunder Mifflin - and more importantly, Pam wanted him to dress up - he was actually going to make an effort.

As Jim turned around, Dwight brushed past him. "Hey, Dwight," Jim said, getting Dwight's attention.

"What?", Dwight turned around and responded.

"What you dressing up as for the Halloween party tomorrow?", Jim asked.

"Chewbacca," Dwight said. "No copying." Dwight walked away, as a wry smirk slowly appeared on Jim's face. He had an idea.

The next day, Jim walked into the office dressed as Han Solo. He felt a little silly dressing up, but Pam wanted him to dress up, and he couldn't wait to see Dwight's reaction. Pam's eyes lit up when she saw him, and she applauded with an ear-to-ear grin on her face.

"_Worth it."_

"Laugh it up, Beesly," Jim said with a smirk as he walked past her desk and towards his own, referencing Han's "laugh it up, fuzzball" line in 'The Empire Strikes Back'. Jim sat at his desk, and looked over at Dwight, who was indeed dressed as Chewbacca.

"NO!", Dwight screamed underneath his Chewbacca head, which he took off and slammed on the desk. "You can't be Han Solo! I am NOT your sidekick, Jim! MICHAEL!"

Jim laughed to himself, ignoring Dwight's protests and switching his computer on. Moments later, Michael came out of his office dressed as O.J. Simpson, wearing a Buffalo Bills uniform and a glove on his hand with his face blackened.

"What is it, Dwight?", Michael asked.

"Jim's dressed as Han Solo, I'm dressed as Chewbacca!", Dwight exclaimed. "I've been here longer than he is, AND I'm a better salesman! Make him change!"

"Absolutely, one hundred percent, not," Michael replied, quoting Simpson from his trial. "Stop being such a nerd, Dwight. Hey, nice costume, Jim! Live long and prosper, my friend."

Oblivious to the fact that he had confused Star Wars with Star Trek, Michael walked back into his office. A furious Dwight grabbed his Chewbacca head and put it under his desk.

After the party started, everyone was gathered in the conference room, but Jim noticed Dwight, sat alone at his desk. Moments later, Jim left the office and made his way to his car in the parking lot.

By the time he was back in the office, he was no longer dressed as Han Solo, instead simply wearing a navy sweater and jeans. Jim walked over to Dwight.

"Hey, Dwight," Jim said. "I think Han Solo left the party."

Dwight nodded his head, doing his best not to smile, before picking up his Chewbacca head from underneath his desk and marching into the conference room.

"_Did I really just do something nice for Dwight?"_

Jim thought about whether to go back in or not, despite his lack of costume. After seeing Roy put his arm around a grinning Pam, though, his mind was made up.

He told Michael that he had to leave early, and left.


	14. Sick Day

"Hey Pam, it's Jim. Just calling to say that I'm not gonna be in today, I've been sick since last night so I didn't get much sleep, and… yeah. Hopefully I'm back on Monday… or not, I don't know. I wouldn't mind never seeing Dwight again... anyway, have a good weekend."

Jim put the phone down after leaving a voicemail to let Pam know that he wasn't going to work today, before rolling over onto his back on his bed. He wanted to go to work, just so he could steal glances at her all day. But, like he said on the phone, he was sick. He'd have to spend his Friday just thinking about her instead. That, and throwing up.

He went back to sleep for about an hour, until the phone rang, waking him up.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, I'd like to order a peanut butter and Jim sandwich, please."

_"Michael. Of course."_

"Hey, Michael."

"What's the haps, Halpert?", Michael asked after getting over a fit of laughter at his joke. He was sat at his desk in his office, and Dwight was stood behind him, looking highly skeptical. "A little birdie by the name of Pam Beesly told me that you're sick! Everything OK?"

"Yeah," Jim replied. "I'm really sorry for not coming in today, I've just been sick since last night. I think it might be food poisoning or something."

"You were _POISONED__?!_", Michael exclaimed in horror. "Oh God... who did this to you? Somebody in the office? You talk to Pam a lot, maybe she-"

"No, Michael, _food_ poisoning. It normally only lasts a few days," Jim assured Michael, who breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll be fine."

"_My boss is an idiot."_

"Ask him what his symptoms are, he could be lying," Dwight leaned inward and whispered into Michael's ear.

"Cut it out!", Michael snapped at Dwight as quietly as possible.

"Hey, Dwight," Jim said, figuring that Michael could only be talking to Dwight.

"Good morning, Jim," Dwight replied, speaking into the phone. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to give me your home address so I could come over and make sure that this 'illness' of yours is legitimate, otherwise-"

"Look, don't worry about it, Jimbo, just get better and come back as soon as you can, alright?" Michael rushed to say with a raised voice, cutting off Dwight. "OK, bye!"

Michael quickly put the phone down before Jim could respond, and turned to Dwight, looking extremely irritated.

"God, Dwight, what is wrong with you?", Michael asked him. "Why did you have to act like he's killed somebody?"

"Maybe that's why he's taking the day off, to bury the body," Dwight quickly retorted. Michael groaned as his head sunk into his hands, and Pam walked in.

"Was that Jim?", Pam asked. "Is he OK?"

"He's fine," Michael confirmed. "We agreed that it's probably food poisoning, which apparently is _not_ as bad as it sounds."

"OK," Pam said softly. "Randall called, he wants to speak to you."

"Alright," Michael sighed. "Dwight, get back to work. Close the door on the way out."

Dwight heeded Michael's instructions, leaving the room with his head down and closing the door. Pam walked back to her desk, thinking about how bored she was at work without Jim around.

She looked at the time. It was her lunch break. She looked at the phone on her desk, and thought about calling Jim. She wanted to. She was going to.

She reached for the phone, when Roy walked in.

So much for that.


	15. Thanksgiving

**Thanks for the continued reviews, Idnaoj80, really appreciate them. And yeah, Roy sucks. Also, I'm glad that people are getting a realistic, early-Office vibe from this, since that's what I'm going for, and basically the whole reason I write this, since I infinitely prefer the earlier episodes when things felt a little more grounded. Anyway, here's a Thanksgiving chapter. Always thought a Thanksgiving episode would have been fun. And yes, the opening is a reference to 'The Fire'. Enjoy!**

"Alright, your turn."

"OK, ummm… oh, I know! Fargo, Edward Scissorhands, Dazed and Confused, The Breakfast Club, and… The Princess Bride."

"Nice choices, Beesly."

Michael walked out of his office, interrupting Jim and Pam's game of Desert Island which was taking place at her desk. "Conference room, five minutes!", he announced, before walking back to his desk. As per Michael's command, the office soon filtered into the conference room, where he was waiting for them. He waited for everyone to sit down, before getting started.

"In case any of you didn't know, today… is Thanksgiving," Michael announced, shocking nobody. "Now to most of you, it's just a day of eating a turkey and watching basketball, but to _me_... it's about more than that."

"People watch football on Thanksgiving, Michael, not basketball," Kevin interjected.

"It's a free country, Kevin, people can watch whatever they want," an irritated Michael replied. "To me, it's about putting the _thanks_, and the giving of them, in Thanksgiving. So here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna go around the room, and everyone is going to say one thing that they're thankful for. For example, I know for a fact that Stanley is thankful for Martin Luther King, because without him, he wouldn't be sat in this room with us today."

Stanley shook his head, before continuing his crossword.

"I'll go first," Michael said. "I, like all of you, am thankful that I was promoted to regional manager this year, because now I make more money, and money doesn't grow on trees. Believe me, I've looked. Alright, who's next?"

Dwight sharply stood up from his chair. "I am also thankful that Michael was promoted to regional manager this year, and I am honoured to serve as his number two," he stated proudly, as Michael rolled his eyes.

"One, nobody likes a kiss ass," Michael said. "And two, I've told you a million times, I don't have a number two. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else."

"But if you had to pick one, it would be me, right?", Dwight asked with a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

"Just sit down, Dwight!", an exasperated Michael snapped. "This is about everyone, not just you."

Dwight looked over his shoulder, glaring at the rest of the room, before sitting down. After a few more people shared what they're thankful for, Michael came to Jim.

"Jim! What are you thankful for?", he asked.

"Well… I'm thankful that I get to come to work and see my best friend everyday," Jim said. "He makes me laugh, he makes me cry… he makes me feel... special." A smile appeared on Michael's face, presumably because he thought Jim was talking about him for some reason. Jim turned to Dwight, sat to his right, and put his hand on his shoulder. "So from the bottom of my heart, Dwight… thank you."

The rest of the room chuckled, but Dwight was not impressed. "Get off me! We are NOT friends, Jim!", he exclaimed, wriggling free of Jim's grasp on his shoulder. With a smirk on his face, Jim looked at Pam on his left, who was laughing hysterically. Honestly, above all else he was thankful that he had met Pam, even if she had a boyfriend.

"Well, I guess we know what Jim's giving Dwight tonight!", Michael said. "Am I right? 'Cause it's Thanksgiving? And… gay?"

After his joke fell extremely flat, Michael waved his finger around the room, figuring out who hasn't given an answer yet, before pointing at Pam.

"PAM! Pam sandwich! What are _you_ thankful for?", Michael asked.

"Ummm," Pam replied, thinking out loud. "I don't know. I guess I'm thankful that… I'm happy."

"_You'd be a lot happier if you were with me instead of Roy, Pam."_

"Wow! Pam Beesly from the heart, ladies and gentlemen!", Michael proclaimed. "That was very deep, thank you. That's what she said."

Jim cringed. He could feel the rest of the room cringing with him, too.

"Alright, I think that's a good note to leave things on," Michael said. "Everybody back to work."

Everyone got up from their chairs and filtered out of the room, except for Toby, who approached Michael. "I didn't get to say what I was thankful for, Michael," Toby said.

"You can tell your family later if you have one, Toby," Michael replied in a dismissive manner. "God, stop being so needy." Michael brushed past a dejected Toby, leaving the conference room and returning to his office.

Meanwhile, Jim sat back down at his desk, and was met with Dwight's glare. "You made me look like an idiot," Dwight snarled.

"Maybe because you _are_ one, Dwight," Jim retorted. OK, that was a little mean, even if it was Dwight he was saying it to. He didn't really care at that moment, though. He couldn't stop thinking about what Pam said in there.

"_I'm happy."_

"_Are you, Pam? Really?"_

His mind then went back to what Pam drunkenly said in the car when he gave her a ride home from the Dundies.

"_You're just… so nice! Why can't all guys be like you?"_

"_Urgh, Roy is… just…"_

Whatever would have come out of Pam's mouth next that night, Jim was pretty sure that it wouldn't have been anything suggesting that she was happy with Roy. But what could he do? Happy or not, she was with him, and he wasn't prepared to tell a girl who had a boyfriend that he was in love with her.

Not right now, anyway.


	16. Glued

Jim sat twiddling his thumbs at his desk, in no rush to start working. He hated Mondays, just like everyone else, but he had a feeling today would be a good one. Dwight walked in, wearing a bright orange beanie hat, a scarf and an overcoat over his work attire - it was December 10th, after all - and approached his desk.

"Hey, Dwight," Jim said. "How was your weekend?"

"What I do outside of the office is none of your business," Dwight replied, as he put his jacket on the back of his chair, before placing his suitcase on his desk and sitting down.

"Alright," Jim muttered. "But hey, the Eagles won yesterday, 24-14."

"I have no interest in watching or competing in team sports," Dwight responded. "Except for paintball."

Jim didn't bother attempting to continue his conversation with Dwight. Instead, he turned to Pam, who was looking at him, and subtly nodded his head. She then picked up the phone at her desk, and started dialling a number. Moments later, Dwight's phone began to ring. He picked it up.

"Dunder Mifflin, Dwight Schrute?", he enquired. There was silence on the other end. Jim and Pam - who had called Dwight - tried to act as naturally as possible, continuing to go about their work.

"Hello? Who is this?", Dwight asked, determined to find out who was calling. "Hello? Mose, is that you? I thought I told you not to call me while I'm at work, or use the phone at all for that matter… forget it."

Dwight went to put the phone down, but for some reason he couldn't. He quickly realised that the phone was stuck to his face. Literally.

"What the... MICHAEL!", Dwight bellowed. Moments later, Michael came walking out of his office.

"What is it, Dwight?", Michael asked.

"The phone, it's stuck to my face!", Dwight replied anxiously. Jim looked at Pam, who covered her mouth with her hands to conceal her laughter, making him smile on the outside, and absolutely beam on the inside.

"What do you mean, it's stuck to your face?", Michael enquired, as if he was talking to a child.

"It's stuck! Look!", Dwight said, as he once again tried - and failed - to pull the phone off the side of his face.

"Wait, wait, wait," Michael said, calming the situation. "You're telling me that the phone… is _stuck _to your face… and you can't get it off?"

"Yes," Dwight responded through gritted teeth, as he continued to try pulling it off. Michael burst out laughing, as tears began to materialise in his eyes.

"This isn't funny!", Dwight snapped. "Someone in this office has compromised my phone!"

Michael paid no attention, as he continued laughing hysterically, upsetting Dwight, who crossed his arms with the phone still firmly stuck to his face.

"Did you have anything to do with this, Jim?!", Dwight asked.

"No," Jim replied nonchalantly. That was a lie. He bought some incredibly strong super glue last weekend, came into work earlier than usual this morning, put A LOT of super glue on the inside of Dwight's phone handset, and told Pam to call him once he was done making casual conversation without telling her about the super glue. Mission accomplished.

"Let me try," Jim said, as he stood up from his chair.

"No!", Dwight instantly replied, prompting Jim to shrug his shoulders before sitting back down. "You're too weak, there's nothing you can do."

"Oh man, this is _so_ going in the newsletter," Michael said after eventually getting over the hilarity of the situation. "We should be filming this. Does anybody have a camera?"

"Help me get it off, Michael!", Dwight cried in desperation.

"That's what she said," Michael immediately retorted, before looking to Jim for approval. Jim laughed, since the joke was at Dwight's expense.

"I'M SERIOUS!", Dwight shouted.

"Alright, alright," Michael said. "Jeez, take a chill pill, am I right?"

Jim nodded his head in agreement. Dwight and Michael both grabbed the phone, and after several seconds of pulling, they eventually peeled it away from Dwight's face.

"OW!", Dwight cried in pain, clutching the side of his face. Jim spun around in his chair, looking at Pam, now stood behind him, who looked at him with a concerned expression. Toby arrived in the office, and walked over to the scene.

"What's going on?", Toby asked.

"Nothing to see here, Toby, he just had a phone stuck to his face," Michael replied hastily.

"You probably shouldn't have just pulled it off his face," Toby said. "You could have got-"

"Yeah, well, you probably shouldn't have come in today!", Michael snapped. Toby shook his head in bewilderment, before leaving the room and going back to work.

Dwight stood up, still holding his face, and placed his free hand on Michael's shoulder, making him feel very uncomfortable. "Thank you, Michael," Dwight whispered, before pulling him in for a hug.

"You should go and get that cleaned up," Michael said abruptly, wanting Dwight to go away. Dwight heeded his advice, walking into the kitchen before entering the bathroom. Michael shook his head, before breaking into laughter again, and walked back into his office. Pam stayed by Jim's desk.

"That must have been pretty painful," Jim whispered to her.

"Even more painful to watch," Pam whispered in reply. "I actually feel kinda bad."

"Trust me, as soon as he says we're all his 'subordinates' again, you won't," Jim said with a smirk.

"_That_ shouldn't take long," Pam responded, before they both laughed. "I better get back to work."

"OK," Jim said. "Oh, um, I'd be careful typing on your keyboard if I were you. Sorry, Beesly."

Pam grinned, before skipping back to her desk. She sat down, and started typing on her keyboard. Moments later, Jim received an email. It was from Pam. He opened it:

"_Try to pull any pranks on me and you're dead, Jimbo. :)_

_Pam x"_

Yep. A pretty good Monday so far.


	17. Todd Packer

"Alright," Michael said, clearing his throat. "So, a guy is sitting at home when he hears a knock at the door. He opens the door and sees a snail on the porch. He picks up the snail and throws it as far as he can. Three years later, there's a knock at the door. He opens it and sees the same snail. And the snail says... "what the hell was that all about?"

Dwight burst out laughing after Michael finished his joke, maybe overdoing it a little to appease his boss. Jim laughed too - it was a pretty good joke - just no where near as hysterically.

"Did you come up with that yourself?", Dwight asked, once he had managed to control his laughter.

"Yep," Michael replied with a grin, obviously lying. "Wanna hear another?"

"Absolutely," Dwight said.

"OK, just one," Michael said. "There's a transcript between a naval ship and a lighthouse, and- wait a second… WHO LET THIS GUY IN HERE?!"

Michael's joke was cut short when he noticed a balding man, about six-foot-two, saunter into the office out of the corner of his eye, and his face immediately lit up.

"There he is!", the man exclaimed, pointing at Michael. He walked over, and they high-fived. Dwight got up and put his hand up for a high-five, but didn't get one from either of them, prompting him to sit back down again.

"Whoa, hold up… who the hell's this guy?", the man asked, pointing at Jim.

"Oh man, I forgot, you guys haven't met!", Michael said with surprise. "This is Jim Halpert, our newest salesman. Jim, this is our traveling salesman, Todd Packer."

"Just call me Packer," he said. "My ex-wife calls me Todd, and she's a grade A bitch."

"What's up, man?", Jim said, politely extending his hand. Packer went to accept the handshake, before pulling his hand back behind his head, making Michael laugh again, whilst Jim shrugged it off.

"Hey, I'm just messin' with you," Packer said, before extending his hand to Jim. Jim went to accept, only for Packer to pull his hand back slightly again, before finally shaking hands with him.

"So, Pac Man, what brings you to Scranton?", Michael asked.

"Oh, you know, haven't stopped by in a while," Packer said. "Thought I'd check in, see if the chicks are any hotter. I'll tell you what, though, Mike, it does _not _look good from this angle!"

Michael burst out laughing, whilst the women of the office gave Packer disapproving looks.

"That receptionist, though, is she still with that warehouse guy?", he asked.

"Who, Pam? Yeah," Michael confirmed, to Packer's chagrin. Jim greatly appreciated the reminder that she was still with Roy. Meanwhile, Pam looked over when she heard her name.

"Why are you talking about me, Michael?", she asked.

"Don't worry about it, sweetcheeks," Packer said, smirking at Pam and making her - and Jim - very uncomfortable.

"_Well, looks like Todd Packer's a douche."_

"What do you say we hit the road at lunch?", Michael asked. "My treat."

"Sure, I'm pickin' the place, though," Packer replied.

"Alright!", Michael said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together, before pointing at Jim. "Jimbo, you're coming." Jim figured he didn't have much of a choice, and thus accepted his fate.

"_Great."_

"Stanley, you in?", Michael asked Stanley, whose gaze was not lifted from his computer. "Add a little bit of urban flavour? You never know what part of town we might end up in!"

"No," Stanley replied bluntly, to Michael's disappointment.

"Can I come, Michael?", Dwight asked, rather predictably. "You could finish that joke from earlier, with the naval ship and the lighthouse." Michael thought about it, appearing reluctant to let him come. "Please," Dwight whispered, leaning towards him.

"Fine," Michael conceded with a sigh. "We leave at 12."

Dwight grinned, punching the air. Now, instead of having the ham and cheese sandwiches he brought to work today, Jim was going out for lunch with Michael, Dwight and Todd Packer, which would probably scar him for life. Once Michael and Packer were gone, Jim got up and walked over to Pam's desk.

"Todd Packer seems nice," Jim said sarcastically.

"Urgh," Pam groaned, rolling her eyes, making him laugh. "At least I wasn't invited to lunch."

"Oh, did you want to be invited?", Jim asked. "I can ask Michael for you, if you want. I think Packer especially would _love _for you to be there."

"Sure," Pam said. "And then _I_ can tell Michael that all you ever talk about is how he's your best friend, and that you think you should spend more time together."

"Touché, Beesly," Jim said with a smirk, making Pam grin, before walking back to his desk. Moments later, he was approached by Packer.

"You dig the receptionist too, huh?", Packer whispered.

"No," Jim replied, lying through his teeth.

"What's your deal then? Are you gay?", Packer asked, confused, to which Jim shook his head. "I don't know, man… boyfriend or not, I'd be _all over_ that if I came into work here every day."

"Good to know," Jim said, feeling highly uncomfortable, before Packer walked away.

"Him and Michael are best friends," Dwight stated in a factual tone.

"You jealous?", Jim asked jokingly.

"No," Dwight scoffed. The nervous manner in which he answered the question, and the expression on his face after doing so, however, suggested otherwise. Jim noticed this, and laughed to himself.

Against Jim's wishes, time went pretty quickly that morning, and before he knew it, it was 12. Michael and Packer came out of his office, having been putting people off their work for the last hour by conversing and laughing rather loudly.

"Let's go!", Michael declared, putting on his overcoat and scarf.

"Shotgun!", Dwight exclaimed, rising to his feet.

"You can't call shotgun when the car isn't in sight, Dwight," Michael said, subsequently muttering "idiot" under his breath. Jim reluctantly got up, tailing behind Michael, Packer and Dwight.

"How long will you be gone for?", Pam asked.

"Maybe an hour, maybe four, maybe we won't be back 'til sunrise, I don't know, Pam!", Michael said giddily. "See ya!"

Jim made a gun with his fingers and pointed it to his head, making Pam laugh, before grabbing his overcoat and waving goodbye. The quartet then left the office, and the journey down to the parking lot consisted of Dwight trying to get in on the conversation Michael and Packer were having, and Jim walking behind them, feeling like a hostage.

"Shotgun!", Michael cried as soon as they were out of the building.

"I thought we were going in your car, Michael," Dwight said, sounding disappointed.

"Have you _seen _Packer's car, Dwight?", Michael asked rhetorically. They made their way over to Packer's car, a red convertible Chevrolet Corvette, and Michael rushed to get in the front seat next to Packer. Jim went to get in on the right side of the car, but was stopped by Dwight.

"Wait!," Dwight blurted out. "I wanna sit behind Michael."

Jim shook his head, amazed by the lengths Dwight was willing to go to be close to Michael, before walking around to the other side of the car and getting in, to Dwight's delight.

"Maybe we should put the roof up," Jim suggested. It was December, after all.

"Maybe you should stop bein' a little bitch," Packer retorted, drawing laughter from Michael and Dwight.

_"Real mature."_

"So where are we going?", Dwight asked, once they had pulled out of the parking lot and were travelling at a frightening pace.

"Hooters," Packer declared.

Of course.


	18. Secret Santa: Part One

"Everybody gather 'round, c'mon!", Michael cried, as he ushered his employees into seats around the table in the conference room, where Dwight was already sat. Jim and Pam sat next to each other, which pleased Jim greatly. Once everyone was seated, Michael stood at the head of the table.

"Alright, I know what you're all thinking," Michael said. "You're all thinking, 'why has Michael put a hat in the middle of the table with little pieces of paper inside of it? Perhaps it's a magic trick!'"

Jim and Pam instantly looked at each other, perplexed as to how Michael came to that conclusion. He wanted to look at her all day, but that would probably raise suspicions, especially from her.

"Well I can assure you that there is no magic involved here, ladies and gentlemen, since you've all made it very clear that you don't want to see any of my magic tricks," Michael continued, somewhat bitterly.

"I do, Michael," Dwight interjected.

"What did I say about interrupting me, Dwight?", Michael said sternly. Dwight nodded his head obediently, allowing him to continue.

"We're gonna be doing a little something I like to call 'Secret Santa'," Michael announced.

"Everybody calls it that, Michael," Kevin said.

"It's an expression, Kevin, just… we're doing Secret Santa, OK?!", Michael snapped, visibly irritated by Kevin's interruption. "All of your names are inside that hat, so we're gonna go around the table, everybody's gonna pick out a name, and whoever's name you pick, you have to buy them a gift. Twenty-dollar limit."

"Question, what if we don't deem the person whose name we pick worthy of a gift?", Dwight asked.

"_Great question, Dwight."_

"Well then give them some coal or a rotten beet, Dwight, just give them _something_!", Michael replied, becoming increasingly agitated.

"Rotten beet?", Jim whispered to Pam in confusion.

"Didn't you know? Dwight runs a 60-acre beet farm with his cousin, Mose," Pam responded, trying not to laugh.

"Oh my God! How did I not know this?", Jim whispered in shock.

"I don't know, I mean, you guys tell each other _everything_," Pam said with a grin, to which Jim sarcastically nodded his head in agreement, before they both turned their attention back to Michael.

"This is _Secret _Santa, so don't tell anybody who you have or what you've got for them," Michael said. "Oh, and if you get yourself, just put your name back in the hat and pick again. Unless you'd really prefer buying yourself something, but that's just… weird. Once you've picked, go back to your desk and get to work. OK, who's first?"

"I'll go first!", Dwight said, almost instinctively, as he stood up from his chair and plunged his hand inside the hat, picking out a name. Dwight looked at the name on the piece of paper, and nodded. "Thank you, Michael," he said, before walking out of the room and returning to his desk.

Pam eventually picked hers, and left afterwards. Jim was next. When he saw who he got, he couldn't help but smile, rushing out of the room and straight over to Pam's desk.

"I know that Michael said not to tell anyone who we've got, but…", Jim said in a hushed tone, before handing Pam his piece of paper. She opened it, and immediately covered her mouth, concealing her laughter.

Yep. Jim got Dwight for Secret Santa.

"What are you gonna get him?", Pam said, trying not to talk too loudly.

"I have no idea," Jim replied, laughing. "Who did you get?"

"Kevin," Pam responded, sounding concerned. "I have no idea what he likes."

"Well, he told me that he loved American Pie 2, and it's now his favourite movie, so you _could_ buy it for him on DVD," Jim suggested. "I don't know. That's what I'd get him, anyway."

"That's perfect!", Pam squealed joyfully, trying not to be too loud. "Thank you." Jim smiled at her in acknowledgement, before returning to his desk.

"Who've you got for Secret Santa, Dwight?", Jim asked nonchalantly.

"Didn't you hear what Michael said? I can't tell you," Dwight replied. "Even if I _could_ tell you, I wouldn't. I don't trust you."

"I _did_ hear what he said," Jim confirmed. "That was a test, and you passed. Good job."

"Good job," Dwight repeated, mimicking Jim's voice. Jim smirked at his childish behaviour, before getting back to work.

If thinking about the perfect Secret Santa gift for Dwight counts as work, that is.


	19. Secret Santa: Part Two

**This was my favourite chapter to write so far. So yeah. :)**

Dwight walked over to his desk, placing his suitcase in front of him and sitting down. Jim was already sat at his desk, having arrived at work before Dwight for once.

"Morning, Dwight," Jim said.

"Good morning, Jim," Dwight responded, as he scanned his desk, looking suspicious. "Where is it?", he asked.

"Where's what?", Jim replied, sounding confused.

"My name plate," Dwight said. "It's gone from my desk."

"I don't know," Jim said, shrugging his shoulders.

"It was here when I left on Friday," Dwight verified to himself. "Who was already here when you arrived this morning?"

"Everybody that's here now," Jim responded.

"Well then they're all suspects," Dwight said scornfully. "Except for Michael."

"It'll show up," Jim reassured him. "It _does_ have your name on it, after all."

That conversation took place on Monday, December 17, 2001, three days after Jim found out he had Dwight for Secret Santa. Dwight spent that week interrogating everyone in the office, some more than once, about the whereabouts of his name plate. Nobody knew, though.

"Four o'clock, everybody, let's go!", Michael cried as he burst out of his office. The date was now Friday, December 21, it was time for Secret Santa, and Dwight's name plate was still no where to be seen.

Everyone gathered by the christmas tree, and set up their chairs in a circle. Michael picked a present up from under the tree.

"Let's get this show on the road," Michael announced. "Stanley the man-ley, you're first, my friend." Michael threw the present to Stanley, which he unwrapped. It was a CD; _The Blueprint_, a Jay-Z album, to be exact.

"That's from me," Michael said with a grin. "And you're very welcome."

"I don't listen to rap music," Stanley said bluntly, thoroughly unimpressed with his gift.

"Well you can start with that," Michael replied. After a few more people had received their gifts, it was Jim's turn.

"Jim Halpert! Here you go," Michael said, throwing Jim's present to him. It was a Philadelphia Eagles mug, courtesy of Devon.

"Awesome," Jim said, genuinely happy with his gift. "Thanks, man." Not long after, it was time for Dwight to open the gift that Jim had got him.

Dwight was handed his present, and he unwrapped it to find a box. He lifted the lid off the box, and found his name plate encased in Jell-O. Laughter ensued.

"I KNEW IT!", Dwight exclaimed. "Somebody in this office stole my name plate! Who was it?!" Nobody said a word.

"In that case, you are _all _responsible, so you will _all _face the consequences," Dwight declared, before rolling his sleeve up in preparation for putting his hand inside the Jell-O.

"No, no, no!", Michael cried, clearly enjoying what was transpiring. "Eat it out of there. Don't waste food now, Dwight, come on."

"This is important, Michael," Dwight said, as he reached into the Jell-O and pulled his name plate out of it. "I'm gonna go and clean this," he announced, before walking into the kitchen, carrying his name plate and the tray of Jell-O.

"Alright, Kevin, you're up," Michael said, throwing a present to Kevin which Pam had got him. Kevin unwrapped it to find a DVD copy of American Pie 2, just like Jim had suggested to her.

"Cool, I love this movie!", Kevin said as a grin emerged on his face. "Who got me this?"

"I did," Pam said, raising her hand slightly.

"Thanks, Pam," Kevin said graciously, as he studied the cover of the DVD. Pam looked at Jim and smiled at him, Jim smiling back at her. Meanwhile, Michael picked up another present. _His_ present, to be exact.

"Oh baby, here we go!", Michael said excitedly as he unwrapped his present, revealing a small box. Michael opened the box and took out a key, confusing him.

"A key?", Michael asked out loud as he examined it. "To somebody's house? Car? What?"

"That, Michael, is a key to Schrute Farms," Dwight burst out of the kitchen and announced proudly, holding his name plate in one hand and a sponge in the other. "It doesn't actually open anything. It's more symbolic of the fact that you're welcome to stay with me and Mose whenever you want, free of charge."

"Are you kidding me, Dwight? A key that doesn't even _open_ anything?", Michael snapped. "And what makes you think I'd wanna stay at your stupid little beet farm?"

Dwight's pride at his gift to Michael was now gone. "I just thought that with the stress of the modern office, you'd want to get away from-"

"Forget it, this is useless to me," Michael interrupted, sighing as he put the key in his pocket, as a dejected Dwight returned to the kitchen. "Can't even sell it on eBay. Let's keep going."

After Michael's outburst, the room was quieter, and the Christmas spirit had been somewhat depleted. The remaining presents were given out, including a Sudoku book for Pam from Toby, which she was pleased with. With that, Secret Santa was over, and the office christmas party began. Dwight returned from the kitchen, placed his name plate back at his desk, grabbed a green flute out of his bag and promptly left the room, which did not go unnoticed by Jim.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something in your office?", Jim asked, approaching Michael.

"Sure, Jimbo," Michael replied happily, before they went into his office and sat down. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember when we got a beer on my first day?", Jim asked.

"Yeah!", Michael responded enthusiastically. "You wanna get another? We can leave right now, they'll be fine without me."

"Uh, no, not right now, anyway," Jim said. "You said to me that you're always asking people in the office if they wanna hang out, and they always shoot you down. You wanna be friends with everybody, and that's great, but… maybe don't push away the people that actually _do _wanna be your friend."

"Is this about Dwight?", Michael asked, to which Jim nodded his head. "He'll be fine. He's done this a thousand times."

"Look, as your friend, all I'm saying is, it wouldn't hurt you to make him feel, I don't know… appreciated," Jim said, standing up. "I mean, it _is_ Christmas."

Michael sighed, before standing up as well. "Alright," he conceded with a sigh, pleasing Jim. "But only because you asked me to."

"That's good enough for me," Jim said, before they both walked out of his office. Michael left the room, presumably to search for Dwight, whilst Jim returned to the party. Roy was there, so he felt uncomfortable about trying to talk to Pam.

A couple of minutes later, Dwight walked back into the office, looking much happier than he did when he left, followed by an uneasy Michael.

"Attention, everyone!", Dwight cried, grabbing everyone's attention. "I would just like to inform you all that Michael has appointed me as the Assistant Regional Manager-"

"Assistant _to the_ Regional Manager," Michael interjected.

"_To the_ Regional Manager," Dwight corrected himself, "of this branch! Therefore, all of you are officially my subordinates! Merry Christmas, everyone!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Dwight joined in the festivities, as Jim approached Michael.

"Assistant to the Regional Manager," Jim said, sounding impressed, to which Michael reluctantly nodded his head. "Wow."

"I also told him that I'd consider spending a night on his beet farm," Michael said, making Jim laugh.

"Merry Christmas, Michael," Jim said, which Michael acknowledged with a smile, before they returned to the party. Later on, Jim was about to come out of the bathroom, when he heard Darryl and Roy talking in the kitchen.

"What you doin' this weekend?", Darryl asked.

"Well, I told Pam that I was going to see Kenny," Roy replied.

"But…," Darryl said, wanting more information.

"But what I'm _actually_ doing... is buying an engagement ring," Roy said.

"Oh shit!", Darryl exclaimed in surprise.

"Alright, keep it down", Roy whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening, oblivious to the fact that Jim was evesdropping on them. "Not gonna buy anything expensive. She won't care."

"I hear you," Darryl said. "So when you gonna, you know… propose?"

"I was thinking her birthday," Roy responded. "Give me a few months to enjoy my freedom, y'know?"

"Aight, that's cool," Darryl said, extending his fist to Roy. They bumped fists, before returning to the party.

Meanwhile, behind the bathroom door, Jim was completely and utterly speechless.


	20. Three Months and Four Days

**20 chapters and over 20 followers, awesome! And thanks for the reviews of the previous chapter, it pained me writing the last part of it too, Idnaoj.**

"_But what I'm actually doing… is buying her an engagement ring."_

"_I was thinking her birthday."_

Roy's words played over and over in Jim's head as he stood behind the bathroom door, staring aimlessly into space. Roy was going to propose to Pam in three months and four days - March 25 was Pam's birthday - which he figured out quicker than any mathematical problem in his life. And if - or in Jim's pessimistic mind, _when _\- she said yes, they would be engaged. And then, they would be married. Jim's stomach churned at the thought of it.

"_Not gonna buy anything expensive. She won't care."_

"_Give me a few months to enjoy my freedom, y'know?"_

What a dick. His feelings for Pam aside, Jim knew that Roy didn't deserve her one bit. He then snapped out of the spell that he had been put under by what he had heard from the other side of the door, and realised that he had been standing in the same spot for an extremely long time. Jim opened the door, walked out of the bathroom, and returned to the party.

He checked his watch. It was 7:37 P.M. His festive spirit was now no where to be seen, so he made the decision to leave the party early. He headed towards the coat hanger stand behind Pam's desk to grab his coat.

"Jimmy Halpert, sales genius!"

Jim turned around. It was Michael.

"Get it? Jimmy Neutron?", Michael asked, proud of his joke. Jim nodded his head with a faint smile.

"Hey, um, I think I'm gonna take off now, so-"

"Absolutely not," Michael interrupted in a blunt tone. "I let you leave the Halloween party early, remember?"

"Michael, I-"

"C'mon, Jim," Michael pleaded. "Don't push away the people that wanna be your friend, that's what you told me!"

Jim sighed before hanging his coat back up, to Michael's delight, and following him into the conference room. There, he was subjected to the sight of Roy whispering something in Pam's ear in the corner of the room, making her laugh, and making Jim's heart drop just a little more.

He managed to stick it out until 9 P.M., when it was time for everybody to leave. Nobody needed to tell Jim, though, as he promptly put his jacket on and grabbed his bag from his desk. When he turned around, Dwight was stood there, startling him.

"Merry Christmas, Jim," Dwight said with a nod of the head.

"_That's the nicest thing he's said to me in the three months I've been here."_

"Merry Christmas, Dwight," Jim replied, impressed by Dwight's well wishes. "Congratulations on the promotion, by the way!"

"Thank you," Dwight responded proudly, "Granted, I was the obvious choice, and it should have happened a lot sooner, but... thank you."

_"There's the Dwight I know."_

Jim went to get his coat, just as Pam was getting hers. Great.

"So, I guess I'll see you next Thursday," Pam said with a grin. Michael had given the office Christmas Eve off, and they had Christmas Day and the day after off anyway, so Thursday it was.

"Yep," Jim said, unable to muster any more words than that. Pam looked over her shoulder and saw Roy tilt his head towards the door, wanting to leave.

"Have a good Christmas," she said to Jim.

"You too," he replied, forcing a smile. Pam sensed that something was up with Jim, but she couldn't stay. She smiled at him, before putting her coat on and walking away with Roy, who put his arm around her shoulder, as Jim watched longingly.

_"Three months and four days."_


	21. Discipline

**Finally have some free time now, and found the motivation to finish this chapter, so here it is! Inspired by a scene from 'Women's Appreciation' in season 3. BTW, we've crossed into 2002 now. Enjoy.**

"Alright, people, listen up!", Dwight exclaimed, standing in front of Pam's desk with his hands on his hips. "Since Michael is in New York today meeting the new Vice President, as Assistant Regional Manager-"

"To the," Jim interjected, to Dwight's chagrin.

"... of this branch, _I _will be in charge of the office in his absence," he finished, prompting a few groans around the office. Meanwhile, Jim sifted through his memories, trying to remember if this scenario had appeared in his nightmares.

"I expect all of you to work to your usual standards under my supervision today, if not _exceed_ them," Dwight announced. "Anybody who disobeys any of my instructions throughout the day will receive a demerit." Jim put his hand up.

"Yes, Jim?", Dwight said.

"Hey, um, what is a demerit?", Jim asked.

"Let me put it this way, you do _not_ want to receive three of those," Dwight replied. Three of those, and you'll receive a citation. Five citations, and you're looking at a violation. Four of those, and you'll receive a verbal warning. Keep it up, and you're looking at a written warning. Two of those, that'll land you in a world of hurt, in the form of a disciplinary review, written up by me, and placed on Michael's desk."

Jim spun his chair around to face Pam, shooting a look of astonishment at her.

"If anybody needs me, I will be in Michael's office," Dwight announced, "but please knock before entering." Dwight picked up his bag from his desk and opening the door to Michael's office, walking in and placing his bag on the desk with a smirk on his face. While being in charge of the office today would only inflate Dwight's ego even further, Jim was fine with it, because it also meant that he would be away from his desk, and thus away from Jim, for a whole day.

And it gave him a chance to have some fun.

A few minutes later, Jim got up and walked over to Pam's desk, a walk that he couldn't make anymore without pondering the fact that Roy was going to propose to Pam on March 25, 2002, in two months and twenty-three days. Nonetheless, he was doing his best to hide it.

"I have an idea," Jim whispered.

"What?", Pam asked.

"Do you think it's humanly possible to receive a disciplinary review from Dwight?"

"No, I don't think it's humanly possible to receive three demerits, five citations, four violations, a verbal warning, and two written warnings all in one day," Pam responded.

"_Wow, her memory is good."_

"But I'd like to see you try," she added with a smile on her face.

"You're on, Beesly," Jim said with a smirk.

"One rule, though," Pam added, "you can't do the same thing to get punished more than once."

"Got it," Jim replied. "Hey, what did you do for New Year's?"

"Not a lot," Pam replied. "I just watched the ball drop in Times Square on TV with Roy. What about you?"

"Just hung out with some friends," Jim said. "You made any New Year's Resolutions?"

"Here's a New Year's Resolution for you," Dwight, suddenly stood behind them, interrupted. "Stop wasting company time talking to each other, and do your jobs, or you can both expect a demerit."

"I've already made mine, can't change it now," Jim responded wittily, to Dwight's chagrin.

"Just go back to your desk, Jim," Dwight said. Jim thought about it, before shaking his head and continuing his conversation with Pam. Dwight scowled, before storming into Michael's office. A minute later, he emerged with a small piece of paper which he had written on, and handed it to Jim.

"That is a demerit for disobeying my instructions," Dwight said. "Now go back to your desk." Jim read the demerit, before scrunching it up into a ball and throwing it into the bin by Pam's desk, further angering Dwight, who walked back into Michael's office again.

"Good start," Pam said congratulatorily. Jim smirked, before walking back to his desk. Moments later, Dwight came out and put another demerit on Jim's desk, for "disrespecting a superior", before walking away. A few minutes later, Jim walked into Michael's office, where Dwight was situated.

"Did you not hear what I said about knocking before entering?", Dwight asked.

"Oh yeah, I did, I just chose to ignore it," Jim responded. Dwight shook his head, before grabbing a piece of paper, writing on it, and handing it to Jim. It was a third demerit, for failing to knock before entering.

"That's three demerits, Jim," Dwight confirmed. "You know what that means. A citation."

"Well that sucks," Jim said. "Oh, by the way, I went ahead and carved my name into your desk, took one of your pens and lost it, and broke one of your pencils. I guess that's vandalism, stealing _and _destroying company property."

"You know what else that is, Jim? Three more citations," Dwight said angrily, quickly writing up three citations on pieces of paper and handing them to a satisfied Jim. "Don't make me give you another."

"I won't," Jim replied. "Oh, by the way, your hair looks stupid today."

That got Jim another citation, his fourth, resulting in a violation. After falling asleep at his desk, taking his tie off and untucking his shirt to make himself look untidy, and mocking Dwight by giving him a citation of his own for his "false sense of superiority", Jim was moving up again.

"That's four violations, Jim, and you know what that means," Dwight said, standing at Jim's desk.

"Verbal warning," Jim replied. "Damn."

"That's right," Dwight confirmed, nodding his head. "So here it is. Jim… I'm warning you. Be careful. Next time, it'll be in writing."

"Got it," Jim said. Dwight went back into Michael's office, and Jim spun around in his chair to look at Pam, who was shaking her head, albeit with a grin on her face.

Roughly twenty-five minutes later, Dwight emerged again. "Hey, Dwight," Jim said, getting his attention.

"What?", Dwight asked.

"You want any of this?", Jim enquired, holding up a bottle of water.

"No," Dwight said, "I have my own water, thank you."

"Oh, this isn't water," Jim said. "This is vodka, and it is _awesome._" Jim opened the bottle - which contained absolutely no vodka whatsoever - and took an extended sip from it, as Dwight's eyes lit up in shock.

"Give me that!", Dwight snapped, lunging forward and snatching the bottle out of Jim's hands. "I will have NO drinking on the job in this office!"

Meredith overheard this from the other side of the office, and promptly took her flask off her desk, placing it inside one of her drawers.

"I'll be back with a written warning," Dwight snarled, before marching back into Michael's office, and coming back a few minutes later with a written warning for Jim. One more written warning, and victory would be his.

Soon after, the phone rang at Dwight's desk. Jim answered it.

"Dunder Mifflin, Dwight Schrute?", Jim asked. "Ah yes, Mr. Owens! How can I help?... oh, well I'm sorry to hear that, but rest assured your paper will be with you as soon as possible, and as a reward for your patience I'll even throw some of my very own Schrute Farm beets in there!... what do you mean, you don't want them? They're the best beets in Scranton! Well then you're not getting your pap-"

Jim was stopped by Dwight, who seized the phone from him and held it to his ear. "Your paper was dispatched this morning, Mr. Owens, it will be with you later today," Dwight said quickly, before slamming the phone down.

"Just trying to help," Jim said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I warned you, Jim," Dwight snarled, "I warned you, yet you continued to disobey me. Now, when Michael gets back from New York, he will find a disciplinary review of Jim Halpert, written by me, waiting for him on his desk."

Dwight stormed back into Michael's office for what seemed like the millionth time today. Once he was gone, Jim got up and walked over to Pam's desk.

"Well done," Pam said, applauding, as Jim took a bow.

"Nothing's impossible, Pam," Jim said.

"_Hopefully that includes me and Pam being together."_

"Alright, your turn."

"No thank you," Pam said, laughing. "I'm afraid that he'll explode if we push him any further. And I'd probably be the one having to clean it up."

"Whatever you say, Beesly," Jim said with a grin, before walking back to his desk. He went about doing his work until just after four o'clock, when Michael returned to the office.

"Hey, hey, hey!", Michael exclaimed in his best Fat Albert voice, announcing his arrival.

"Michael!", Dwight cried, running out to greet him.

"Did I say you could use my office?", Michael asked.

"I thought it would be a good idea, y'know, to remind everyone that I was their boss for the day," Dwight protested.

"Well you should have asked me first, so I could say no," Michael said.

"Sorry, Michael," Dwight apologised. "Welcome back. On your desk you will find a disciplinary review of Jim Halpert, written by me, for his persistent insubordinate behaviour today. You may punish him as you see fit."

"Well he's fine when I'm here, so I don't care," Michael said, angering Dwight, who stormed into Michael's office, hastily collected his belongings, and returned to his desk next to Jim.

"How did it go in New York, Michael?", Pam asked.

"Good, good," Michael replied, lighting up. "Jan Levinson-Gould is her name. Very nice girl, she'll make a great Vice President. Now I know what you're thinking, Pam, but she's married, so no potential romance there."

"I wasn't thinking that," Pam responded.

"Well, the point still stands," Michael said, as he walked to his office. "Once they're married, fuhgeddaboudit."

After distracting himself all day, Jim was reminded of his predicament.


	22. Valentine's Day: Part One

**Thanks for the reviews, Ryan, Idnaoj and Guest. It's time for another two-parter, which means that important Jam stuff is about to go down. Not a lot of humour in this one. Enjoy, if possible.**

Jim walked into the office, and for a change, Pam wasn't sat at her desk to greet him, which struck him as odd. He sat down at his desk, next to Dwight, who _was _there. Great.

"Hey, Dwight," Jim greeted him.

"Hello," Dwight said bluntly.

"So, you got any plans for Valentine's Day?", Jim asked. Not that he actually cared about Dwight's Valentine's Day plans, but hey.

"Am I indulging in a shameless corporate scheme designed for businesses to profit from humankind's need for companionship? No, Jim, I'm not," Dwight replied.

"_That makes two of us."_

A few minutes later, Michael walked out of his office, looking confused.

"Where's Pam?", Michael asked. "It's almost nine o'clock. She's never this late."

"Maybe it's time we got a new receptionist," Dwight suggested coldly. "That's what I told you on her first day."

"I don't know, maybe," Michael said with concern in his voice.

At 9:02 A.M., Pam finally walked into the office, looking at the ground as she approached her desk.

"Pam!", Michael cried, elongating her name. "You're late! C'mon, this office needs a pretty face!"

"Sorry, Michael," Pam said softly, sitting down at her desk.

"Well, lucky for you, nobody's tried calling yet," Michael said, "just don't let it happen again, OK?"

Pam nodded her head halfheartedly. Michael walked back into his office, and everybody else got on with their day as normal, apart from Jim, who was concerned about Pam. Michael was right; she was never late to work. He got up, and went over to Pam's desk.

"Hey," Jim said, trying to sound as jovial as possible in an attempt to cheer her up.

"Hey," Pam replied, glancing at him before looking back down at her desk.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said with a smile. Pam smiled faintly in response, not looking at him.

"You OK?", he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"Yeah," she responded.

"OK," Jim muttered, realising that Pam wasn't in the talking mood, before turning around and walking back to his desk. He knew that something was up, but he wasn't going to push her.

Later in the day, Jim went into the break room with his ham and cheese sandwich to eat on his lunch break, but Pam wasn't there. He ate it with Kevin and Oscar, before promptly leaving, and after establishing that she wasn't in the office, Jim left to go and look for her. Soon, he found her, sat on a bench in the hallway, with tears in her eyes.

"Pam?", Jim said, grabbing her attention.

"Hey," Pam replied, wiping tears away. Jim sat down next to her.

"What's going on?", he asked.

"Nothing," she responded dismissively, "don't worry about it."

"Pam," Jim said sternly. He wasn't going to let her pretend nothing was wrong. "You're not OK".

"I had an argument with Roy," Pam eventually confessed, before beginning to cry again. "He said he didn't see the point in doing anything for Valentine's Day, _after_ I had got him something, and it got pretty bad. It sounds stupid, I know."

"It doesn't, believe me," Jim assured her. "God, he's an idiot."

"I took a cab into work this morning," Pam said. "That's why I was late. I think I'm gonna stay with my parents for a few days. They're picking me up after work."

"That's probably for the best," Jim said softly, placing his arm around her shoulder.

"I mean, Valentine's Day is a day for you to show someone how much you love them," Pam said. "Yeah," Jim agreed, "it is."

"_No, Jim. Argument or no argument, she still has a boyfriend. And as long as she does, you're not going to do or say anything."_

"Although Dwight would disagree with you," he added, breaking the comfortable silence. "He said it's an, and I quote, 'shameless corporate scheme', so… there's that."

Pam smiled, lifted her head up, and locked eyes with him. "I don't know what to do, Jim," she said, still sobbing. "I've been with him for five years."

"Better late than never, I guess," Jim said. "I don't know Roy that well, but what I _do_ know... is that he doesn't deserve you, Pam."

"I want it to be over," Pam revealed, to Jim's surprise, and on the inside, delight. "We argue all the time. But I can't do it. I'm afraid."

"You have _nothing_ to be afraid of," Jim said reassuringly. "Being with Roy is your comfort zone, I get it. But if you want it to be over, it can be, and he will never hurt you ever again."

After wiping some tears away, Pam nodded her head. Was this it? Was she going to end it with Roy? On Valentine's Day, of all days? Jim's heart couldn't help but race at the possibility.

Before that question could be answered, Jim and Pam were approached by Roy.


	23. Valentine's Day: Part Two

**Thanks for the review, Idnaoj. Part Two, here we go!**

"Hey," Roy said awkwardly. "Could you give us a sec?"

"Uh, sure," Jim said, standing up and walking back to the office, so that Roy was alone with Pam.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Roy said, sitting down next to Pam and placing his arm around her, just like Jim. Pam undoubtedly felt safer with Jim, though. "You're right, I take you for granted. But I also know that I love you, more than anything in the world, and I hope you know that too."

After Roy's words, Pam's crying temporarily subsided. "I'll get you something for Valentine's Day after work, and if you wanna go out for dinner tonight, then we can go anywhere you want."

Pam nodded her head.

"Are you OK now?", Roy asked. Pam kept nodding. "Good. I just wanna make you happy, Pammy."

Roy took Pam's hand and helped her to her feet, before hugging her and planting a kiss on her lips.

"I'd better get back to work," Roy said, "so are you gonna come back with me tonight, or...?" Pam nodded her head again, bringing a smile to Roy's face.

"Alright, I'll see you later," he said happily, before letting go of Pam and leaving. Pam composed herself, before walking back to the office and entering the kitchen. Jim soon followed her in.

"What happened?", Jim asked softly. "Did you break up with him?"

Pam shook her head.

"_Unbelievable."_

"I thought you wanted it to be over?", Jim asked, trying not to sound angry. Being angry at Pam was the last thing he wanted, but he was disappointed, and on the inside, ever-so slightly heartbroken. "_Do_ you want it to be over?"

Pam said nothing, further frustrating Jim.

"Pam, he can apologise as many times as he wants, but the fact is, he's not right for you. I knew it the first time I saw you with him. I know you've been with him for five years, but you're gonna be with him for another _fifty _years if you don't do something. Is that what you want?"

Again, Pam said nothing. Jim said nothing either, and they stood there for seemed like an eternity, Pam struggling to look him in the eye. Eventually, Jim quietly sighed, before turning around, leaving the kitchen and returning to his desk.

Jim didn't talk to Pam again that day. At five o'clock, Roy came upstairs to meet her, just as Jim was getting ready to leave. Pam stood up, put her pink overcoat on, and quickly glanced at Jim, who was looking at her, before linking her hand with Roy's and walking out of the office.

Jim put on his jacket and grabbed his bag, before leaving the office. He got in his car, and as he started it up, "Sing" by Travis was playing.

"_But if you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing _

_For the love you bring won't mean a thing _

_Unless you sing, sing-"_

Jim turned off the radio.


	24. Jan Levinson-Gould

**I'm back! Hope I gave everyone enough time to cool down from being angry at Pam.**

It had been four days since Valentine's Day. Last Friday, the day after, the only words Jim said to Pam all day were "hey" when he got to work in the morning, and "have a good weekend" when he left. Things were weird between them, and he wanted to make it right today.

First, though, there was the matter of Jan Levinson-Gould, Dunder Mifflin's Vice-President of Sales, visiting the office.

She arrived just after noon, and approached Pam's desk.

"Hi, is Michael here?", she asked.

Before Pam could respond, Michael came out of his office.

"Jan Levinson-Gould!", Michael exclaimed, and began to bow repeatedly. "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

"Hello, Michael", a perplexed Jan said, not fully appreciating Michael's Wayne's World reference.

Michael turned to face his employees. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Jan Levinson-Gould, your new Vice-President of Sales." Dwight rose from his chair and approached them, extending his hand to Jan.

"Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager", he introduced himself as they shook hands. "You're even prettier than Michael described you." Michael didn't appreciate Dwight's sucking up, although Dwight was also trying to make Michael look good.

"Thank you, Dwight", Jan said.

"Dwight is actually the Assistant _to the _Regional Manager, there's a difference," Michael said, "and he should get back to work. Oh, actually, Dwight, go and get the TV and set it up in the conference room." Dwight left them, pacing out of the office.

"I will give you a tour of the office," Michael announced, and proceeded to show Jan around. "That's Pam Beesly, our very cute receptionist," he said, making Pam feel uncomfortable, "and that's her BFF, Jim Halpert, part of our sales team, along with Dwight, Phyllis Lappin and Stanley Hudson."

Jim glanced at Pam, who was awkwardly looking down at her desk, as Michael and Jan continued to walk around.

"'_BFF'. Thanks, Michael."_

Afterwards, Michael gathered everyone into the conference room, where Dwight had set the TV up. Michael and Jan stood at the front of the room as everyone sat down, Pam sitting next to Meredith, and Jim next to Kevin.

"Jan, the floor is yours to introduce yourself and ask or answer any questions," Michael said, "but first, I put together a little something for you." Michael put a video into the TV. The video came on, showing Michael sat at his desk in his office.

"Hello, Jan," Michael said, "welcome to Dunder Mifflin Scranton. If you're watching this, that means you've seen our office. But now..." The camera cut to Michael stood next to the 'Scranton Welcomes You' sign. "... it's time for you to see our city."

The camera cut to Michael standing in The Mall at Steamtown, amongst a wave of people.

"This is The Steamtown Mall," Michael said, "if you wanna do any shopping whilst you're in town, maybe you wanna buy some new clothes, or shoes, or fancy new underwear, this is the place to go." Jan looked at Michael in confusion. The camera then cut to Michael stood outside Poor Richard's.

"This is Poor Richard's, the best bar in Scranton," Michael said, "we hang out there sometimes after work when people aren't busy, me and Jim actually got a drink here after his first day."

A few heads in the room turned to Jim, whose day kept getting worse.

"Maybe we could get a drink later before you head back to New York, Jan?", Michael asked on the TV.

"No thank you, I've got some things to take care of at home," Jan said.

"Can I come?", Dwight, behind the camera, asked on the TV. "No, Dwight, important people only," Michael replied. The camera cut to Michael sat at a table in Chili's, with a plate of baby back ribs in front of him.

"This is Chili's, my favourite restaurant," Michael said, "if you come here, get the baby back ribs. They're delicious."

"I want my baby back, baby back, baby back," Dwight began to sing.

"Not now, Dwight," Michael said, before taking a bite out of a rib. "We held The Dundies here last year, where I rewarded my employees for their hard work with trophies. Mine is on my desk in my office."

"Mine's at home in a display case above my bed," Dwight said behind the camera. "By the way, I think the battery on this thing is running out."

"I thought you fully charged it," Michael asked.

"No, you said you could do it yourself and told me to get out of your office."

"Fine, we'll wrap it up here," Michael said with a sigh. "That concludes our tour of Scranton, Jan. Wish it could have been longer. That's what she sa-"

The screen went black, cutting Michael off. The battery had indeed ran out. Silence fell over the room.

"Alright, Jan, why don't you introduce yourself?", Michael said.

After Jan introduced herself and answered a few questions, including a request from Dwight to see her medical records, everyone left the conference room. A few minutes later, Jim went into the break room, where Pam was stood at the vending machine.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?", Jim asked.

"Sure," Pam said.

"I'm sorry about the other day," Jim said. "I just… want you to be happy, that's all."

"_You'd be a lot happier if you broke up with Roy."_

Pam smiled. "You don't have to apologise," she said softly. "I'm sorry that everyone knows now that you hung out with Michael outside work."

They both laughed, and talked about how awful Michael's video was, what they thought about Jan, what they did over the weekend and what their plans were after work, before heading back into the office.

Things were back to normal.


	25. Poor Richard's

**Back again! Finally settled on an idea for a new chapter, and found the motivation to write it, so here we go.**

Stood at the photocopier, Jim found himself staring at Pam at the reception desk for slightly too long, as he was wont to do, when he was approached by Kevin.

"Hey, Jim," Kevin greeted him.

"Hey, Kev," Jim replied.

"Poor Richard's after work, you in?", Kevin asked.

"Yeah, sure," Jim said. He hadn't been out for a drink with the rest of the office before, so he was looking forward to it. "Who else is going?"

"_Is Pam going?"_

"Oscar, Meredith, Phyllis, Stanley and Toby," Kevin responded. "Separate cars."

"Cool," Jim said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible, "should I ask anybody else?"

"Yeah," Kevin replied, before slightly lowering his voice, "I think you know by now who to ask and who _not _to ask, if you know what I mean."

"Alright, man," Jim said with a laugh, understanding that Kevin was referring to Michael, before returning to his desk, where Dwight was sat next to him.

"So, Poor Richard's after work, huh?", Dwight asked. Jim was hoping he hadn't heard his conversation with Kevin.

"Uh, yeah, maybe," Jim replied, not making eye contact.

"Hmmm," Dwight pondered out loud, "I _do_ have a lot to take care of back at the farm."

"Oh, well, maybe next time," Jim said, trying to keep Dwight from coming.

"But I'm sure Mose can survive on his own for a couple more hours. And I suppose I should be concerned about employee morale as Assistant Regional Manager."

"Assistant _to the_ Regional Manager," Jim corrected him.

"So, yes, I will be attending," Dwight confirmed.

"Great," Jim said, sounding slightly sarcastic.

"What about Michael?", Dwight predictably asked.

"Oh, I think he's busy tonight," Jim lied, as per Kevin's advice. "I was talking to him earlier and he said he had something important going on tonight. So maybe don't tell him that we're going to Poor Richard's, because that'll just bum him out that he can't be there."

"I guess you're right," Dwight conceded with a sigh. At least that was one unwanted guest taken care of. Later on, Jim ran into Pam in the kitchen.

"Hey," Jim said.

"Hey," Pam greeted him with a smile.

"So, a few of us are going to Poor Richard's after work, including Dwight because he heard me and Kev talking about it, but I think I've got Michael out of the picture. You wanna come?", he asked.

"Tonight? Aw, I'd love to, but I'm going to dinner with my mom and dad, and Roy," she replied, sounding disappointed.

"Oh, OK," Jim said, his heart sinking a little.

"Next time though, definitely," Pam assured him. "You saw me drunk at the Dundies, so I need to get even with you."

"That's true," Jim said with a laugh, before returning to the office.

Eventually, 4:59 p.m. became 5:00 p.m., and with that, the weekend was here. Jim got up from his desk, grabbed his bag and collected his coat.

"Have a good weekend," Jim said to Pam.

"You too, have fun tonight," she replied, and they smiled at each other before he left. Michael came out of his office and was approached by Dwight.

"Enjoy whatever it is you're doing tonight, Michael," Dwight said.

"Oh, probably nothing," Michael responded, "improv class was cancelled this week. Guess I'll have to 'improv' my Friday night. So in a way, tonight _is _improv class."

"So you're not doing anything tonight?", Dwight asked, sounding excited. "A bunch of us are going to Poor Richard's now, you should come!"

"Really?", Michael said as his eyes lit up and a slight smile appeared on his face. Moments later, in the parking lot, Jim, Kevin, Oscar, Meredith, Phyllis, Stanley and Toby headed to their cars when Michael and Dwight burst through the doors.

"Poor Richard's, let's go!", Michael exclaimed. "Time to get our drink on, Dunder Mifflin!"

"Yeah!", Dwight cried joyfully, punching the air, as the rest of the group groaned collectively, their plan to keep their gathering a Michael-free affair foiled at the last second.

The group linked back up outside Poor Richard's, the mood dampened by Michael's presence, and they found a table inside.

"I'm glad we're finally doing this," Michael said with delight, "this is how it should be in every workplace! A boss and his employees hanging out, having some beers, just having a good time! Hey, y'know what? Because I make the most money here, but more importantly for all the hard work you guys do to make my job easier, first round's on me!"

There were a few scattered cheers amongst the group after that announcement. "And second round's on me!", Dwight declared, shamelessly attempting to emulate Michael as always, but nobody cared, because they were getting free drinks.

After everyone had one drink (everyone had a beer except for Meredith, who had rum and coke), Phyllis and Stanley left, citing the fact that they had to drive home. That prompted Oscar and Toby to leave as well for the same reason, so Jim, Kevin, Meredith, Dwight and Michael remained, and Dwight got the next round.

"Looks like we're separating the men from the boys," Dwight remarked once everyone had finished their second drinks.

"Hey, I'm still here," Meredith interjected, taking offense.

"I was trying to pay you a compliment," Dwight said in his defense, "but I'm sorry."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Meredith replied, "let's have some SHOTS!"

"Now we're talking!", Michael cried, and with that, everyone got tequila shots.

"_This is a terrible idea."_

"I would like to make a toast," Michael announced, raising his glass in the air, as Jim, Dwight, Kevin and Meredith raised theirs. "To Dunder Mifflin!"

"To Dunder Mifflin!", everyone said in unison, before downing their tequila shots, to varying reactions. Meredith loved hers, Michael screamed "yeah, baby!" after his, Dwight approved of his, Kevin was taken aback by its strong taste, and Jim didn't like his, but wouldn't say no to another.

After another round of shots, Kevin was picked up by his girlfriend Stacey, and Meredith got a ride home with them after remembering that she had a son to take care of. That left Michael, Dwight and Jim, who was too drunk to care about the fact that he was hanging out in a bar with his annoying boss and his insufferable desk-mate.

"Looks like it's just us," Michael said, "the three amigos!"

"That's us!", Dwight said with a grin, "you guys need to come to my beet farm, and we can use my crossbow range, and make tables, and you can take home as many beets as you want!"

"An all-you-can-beet buffet!", Jim joked, and everyone laughed hysterically. Joking with Michael and Dwight? What the hell was he doing?

Jim checked his phone, and saw that he had a message from Pam, sent just over an hour ago:

"_Hope you're surviving without me! :-)"_

Even in his drunken state, Jim couldn't help but smile after seeing that message. The alcohol took over pretty quickly, though.

"You guys," Jim said, "let's call Pam!"

"That is a GREAT idea!", Michael replied, and Dwight nodded enthusiastically. Jim found Pam's number on his phone and called it, but it went to voicemail.

"Pam! It's Jim!", he shouted down the phone.

"And Michael!", Michael added.

"And Dwight!", Dwight chimed in.

"Everyone else is gone, it's just us here! How great is that?", Jim said. Michael reached across the table and motioned for Jim to give him the phone, and Jim obliged. It was probably for the best that he was stopped from saying something he might regret.

"Hey Pam," Michael said, "I'm hungry, could you make me a Pam and cheese sandwich please? Thank you!"

Dwight and Jim laughed, before Dwight took the phone. "Hello Pam," he said, "I need you to make ten copies of my sales report for this month, and could you Pam-inate them for me too?"

Jim and Michael laughed uncontrollably, and Jim took back the phone. "Sorry about those guys," he said, "they can be a little much, I know... which is why I'm getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning, and moving to Amster-Pam!"

Dwight and Michael were in hysterics. "Just kidding, I'm not going anywhere. Not as long as you're here, that's for sure. Okay, bye Pam!"

Michael and Dwight also shouted their goodbyes loud enough to be heard, before Jim put the phone down on the table. Michael stumbled across the room towards the bathroom, leaving Jim and Dwight at the table.

"If I didn't know any better," Dwight said, "I'd say you like Pam."

"Well, yeah," Jim replied, "what's not to like? Do you not like her?"

"I don't mean like that, idiot," Dwight said, "I mean you _like _like her." A long silence ensued.

"She's with Roy," Jim eventually stated, "and as long as she's with him, it doesn't matter how I feel."

Of all the people to tell about his crush on Pam, Jim never in a million years thought it would be Dwight.

"Why do you care anyway?"

"Because, Jim," Dwight said as he limply placed his hand on Jim's shoulder for a second, "I'm your friend. I've never truly been in love. I suppose I'm still waiting for the perfect specimen to rear the next generation of Schrutes. Maybe it'll take a week, a month, a year, maybe even ten. I can wait, what with my superior genes. If two people are perfect for each other, in this case you and the receptionist-"

"Pam," Jim clarified.

"Yes, her," Dwight corrected himself, "no matter how many obstacles there are, or unlikely it may seem at times, it'll happen."

"So you're saying I should do nothing?", Jim asked. "What if I don't do anything, and she just stays with Roy forever?"

"Well you can always do _something_," Dwight replied, "in this case, maybe you _need_ to do something to let her know you're an option. But if it doesn't go how you want it to, then you'll just have to accept that she's with the right person, and you'll just have to keep trying to find yours."

"Wow," Jim uttered, absorbing Dwight's advice. "Thanks, Dwight."

Dwight raised his glass of whiskey to Jim before taking a drink from it, as Michael returned to the table.

"I'm back," Michael announced, doing his best Terminator impression. "One more round then we get a cab? What do you say?"

Dwight and Jim both slowly nodded their heads. "I'll get 'em this time," Jim said, slightly slurring his words, and got some beers for the group.

"Hey Michael," Dwight said, "guess what I found out about Jim?"

"_I swear to God, Dwight, if you tell him, I will kill you."_

"He… is a good drinking buddy," he finished, patting Jim on the shoulder, as Jim breathed a sigh of relief and everyone laughed. The trio finished their drinks, called a cab, and left the bar. Jim was the first to be dropped off, and he, Dwight and Michael shared a drunken group hug in the back seat, before leaving the car.

"Dunder Mifflin!", Jim shouted with an arm raised in the air, and Dwight and Michael rolled the window down and echoed his sentiment as they were driven away. Jim stumbled towards his house, but before going in he got his phone out, and called Pam again. It went to voicemail.

"Hey, Pam," Jim said, "it's Jim, again. Sorry about that last voicemail. Still a _little_ drunk, but yeah, it's been an interesting night. I think I'm friends with Michael and Dwight now. Or maybe it was just a one night stand of friendship, who knows? Alcohol works in mysterious ways, Beesly. Anyway, hope you had a good night with your mom and dad. Oh, and Roy. And I will see you on Monday! Bye."

Jim put his phone back into his pocket, and eventually managed to unlock the door and get into his house, hopefully not waking up Mark in the process.

He collapsed onto the couch and immediately fell asleep, bringing an end to a day he wouldn't soon forget for a number of reasons, and one that he would pay for in the morning.


	26. Katy

"How do I look?", Michael asked the room, as he walked out of his office.

"Like a fearless leader," Dwight instantly replied, as Jim rolled his eyes.

"Ladies, how do I look?", Michael rephrased the question, although he only directed his gaze at Pam.

"You look great, Michael," Pam replied, wanting to end the conversation immediately.

"Thanks, Spamster," Michael responded, "we've got an executive from Harper Collins coming in today, _big_ potential client, and he wants to see how we do things at Dunder Mifflin, so be on your best behaviour, everybody!"

"You too, Michael," Pam said.

"Don't worry about me, Pam, trust me, I'm gonna nail this one," Michael said, "that's what she said. There, it's out of my system."

About an hour later, a grey-haired man wearing a suit walked in, flanked by an extremely pretty red-haired girl wearing a purple sweater and a long black skirt. They approached Pam's desk.

"I'm here to see Michael Scott," the man stated. Moments later, Michael came walking out of his office.

"Mr. Schofield, I presume?", Michael said, bearing a goofy grin, as he walked towards the man and extended his hand. "I'm Michael Scott, regional manager of Dunder Mifflin: Scranton, welcome to our humble abode."

"Daniel Schofield, executive at Harper Collins," he said, shaking hands with Michael. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought my daughter Katy along with me. She graduated from college last year and is looking for a full-time job, so I just want her to see what working in an office is like."

"Oh, no problem at all," Michael said, smiling at Katy, "if you like what you see then you should apply here, I'm sure we could try and fit you in somewhere."

"_Please don't say 'that's what she said.'"_

"Wow, thank you!", Katy said.

"Should we talk in your office?", Mr. Schofield asked.

"Yes, that is an excellent idea," Michael replied. "Jimbo! While Mr. Schofield and I are in there, how would you like to show Katy around the office?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jim said, standing up, and he saw Michael very subtly wink at him.

"_Is he trying to be my wingman?"_

"Alright, let's talk paper," Michael said, leading Mr. Schofield into his office and leaving Jim with Katy.

"Hey, Jim Halpert, I'm a salesman here," he introduced himself, shaking hands with Katy.

"Not Jimbo then?", she asked playfully.

"Oh, that's my real name, but I prefer Jim," he replied, making her laugh. "Kidding. My parents aren't that terrible. Alright, where to begin?" Jim walked Katy towards reception. He felt incredibly uncomfortable showing another girl Pam's desk.

"This is Pam, our receptionist," Jim introduced her.

"Hey!," Katy said enthusiastically. "Do you like it here?"

"Yeah," Pam said assuredly, after an ever-so quick glance at Jim. "I just answer the phone, and Michael can't see when I play games on my computer, so it's not too bad."

"That's great, I played SO much solitaire on my computer in college," Katy said. "I try and play so that the cards go ftftftftft all the time."

"I love that too!", Pam replied.

"I guess I should go and see the rest of the office, but it was great meeting you," Katy said, before looking at Jim.

"You too," Pam responded, before Jim and Katy walked away.

"She's nice," Katy said.

"Yeah, she's great," Jim replied, as they went back over to his desk.

"This is Dwight Schrute, another one of our salesmen," Jim introduced his deskmate, "fun fact, he owns a sixty-acre beet farm."

"Best beets in the whole of Pennsylvania," Dwight said proudly, leaning back in his chair. "Can I just say, you are incredibly beautiful."

"Thank you," Amy said, blushing.

"Creamy skin, straight teeth, curly hair, amazing brea-"

"Alright, let's keep it moving," Jim interrupted, whisking Katy away from a disappointed Dwight, and proceeded to show her around the rest of the office.

"This is the break room, my personal favourite part of the office," Jim said when they reached it. That was a lie; his favourite part of the office was his desk, where he could see Pam.

"I don't blame you," Katy said, "is it okay if I get a drink real quick? I'm kinda thirsty."

"Sure, go for it," Jim replied. Katy examined the vending machine, unsure of which drink to get.

"I can't decide," Katy said, "which one do you normally go for?"

"Oh, grape soda, every time," Jim responded.

"I'll go with that then," Katy said, before putting her coins into the machine and getting a grape soda. She took a drink from it, and nodded her head.

"I can see why you like it," she said. They made their way back into the office, just as Michael emerged from his office with Mr. Schofield.

"There they are!", Michael exclaimed, as Jim and Katy approached them. "How did you like your guided tour of the office, Katy?"

"I really enjoyed it," she replied, "it seems like such a nice place to work. And Jim is a great tour guide."

"Glad to hear it," Michael said, "Mr. Schofield, it's been a pleasure, and I hope we hear from you soon."

"I'll talk to the board first, but I have a feeling that you will," he replied, and he and Michael shook hands again.

"Is it okay if I go to the bathroom before we go?", Katy asked her father.

"Of course, I'll be outside," Mr. Schofield replied, before saying goodbye to Michael and leaving the office. Katy came back from the bathroom a minute later and placed a folded note on Jim's desk.

"It was great to meet you, Katy," Michael said, "and don't forget, if you're interested in working here then I'll see what I can do."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you so much," Katy replied, "bye!" She waved, looking at Jim and smiling, before leaving. Jim spun around in his chair to face his desk, and saw the note that Katy left on it. He opened it, and it read:

"_Thanks for today, call me if you want to go out sometime :)_

_570-555-0173_

_Katy x"_

"You are very welcome," Michael said, looking over Jim's shoulder. "Oh man, we'll _definitely_ get Harper Collins if you go out with her. I'd have got her number for myself, but that would have been unprofessional. Jim Halpert, I am officially your wingman, my friend."

Jim laughed, saying nothing, as Michael went back into his office. Feeling uncomfortable, Jim saw Pam looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and when he looked at her she gave him two thumbs up. Jim smirked, before putting the note in his pocket and pretending to focus on his computer screen, when really he was in a world of his own, processing the situation.

Should he go out with Katy, a friendly, incredibly attractive girl, who let him choose grape soda for her and liked it, and was clearly interested in him?

Or remain hopelessly in love with his co-worker, whose high school sweetheart boyfriend was going to propose to her in twenty-one days' time?


End file.
